Love thy neighbour
by FallenAngelItachi
Summary: He's an old-soul-in-a-young-body type of cop; she's a perpetually tired but always active doctor...and they live opposite each other. Nothing ever goess wrong, right? Saito x Tokio type of thingy, as you've come to expect of me. Neighbour's AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : Hello people! How have you been? How about a COMPLETELY random update? Yay~~~

legalronin just updated her fic Lady Justice and she totally inspired me, tugged on my Saito x Tokio heartstrings so I farted this out: Neighbours AU; **not** a one shot. I know, I've done this pairing to death, but I can't stop. So have at it.

I do not own RK or its characters blah blah blah.

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"Let me guess, another jar?"

The man stood at the threshold; behind him was his apartment; in front of him the hallway…and his neighbour, in all of her domestic glory: mismatched socks to the knee, hair a complicated mess and clothes so baggy and worn they couldn't be allowed to leave the apartment complex, nay, the floor!

She averted her eyes, a slight blush rising already. It was always unnerving when he stared her down like that, but she was used to it by now.

"…yes." She finally admitted, smile wide and apologetic.

His smirk never subsided but was masked by the perfect sigh. Uncrossing his arms, he held one out. But when she didn't hand him any jar, he was confused. "Well, where is it?"

"In my apartment, where all my jars are…obviously."

Suspicion immediately gripped him. "You always bring them to me; what's different this time?"

"It's more than one…"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically – a gesture that deeply offended him as _he_ was the one supposed to be doing that, _thank you very much_ – and clicked her tongue. "Telling you. Please come help me with my many jars that rest on the top of my counter that are too many and too heavy to carry all the way out here."

Eyebrow still higher than normal, he closed the door of his apartment and followed the woman to hers. She was always intrigued by how his footsteps were always so quiet in contrast to hers…and he was at least 30 centimetres taller than her! He, on the other hand, was always intrigued by the things she'd ask him at all sort of hours.

"You're having a party or something?"

"Oh? Am I not allowed? Or is it you will arrest me if it gets too noisy, _officer_?"

He snorted. "Wouldn't you like that…?"

She opened her own door and from the narrow corridor they found themselves in the hallway of her apartment. It was small and led to an open space that was the living room and kitchen, all in one large room.

"Being arrested? No, thank you." They slipped their shoes off by the door. "I want my record clean; remember, I am a respectable doctor." His snort didn't go unaddressed this once. "I _am_!" At his obvious disbelief, she pouted that adorable way that she thought was intimidating. "I'll have you know, despite my age, I am well-respected and trusted member of the medical community of Tokyo."

"Who can't open a single one of her jars on her own; or connect her new TV; or work her way around her car. Do you have weak wrists, doctor Takagi?" She pursed her lips, sending him a glare. "Oh? Well, if I'm wrong, I can just go-!"

" _No_!"

Damn, he called her bluff. She needed him. "No, stay; open the jars."

He had already reached her counter faster than her, fiddling with the food stuffs. Honey, various types of marmalade…she was "baking huh?"

"Yeah."

She still wouldn't look at him directly when it came down to why she had assigned this task on him, what was up with that? Now he was even more curious. "Must be a hell of a cake if you need all these…or are they many smaller ones?"

He still did what she asked: unscrewed all the lids and after opening them, simply put them back on.

"What's up with all these questions? It's the first time you've ever showed such interest in my jars."

"Well, you act strange so I act out of the ordinary in return." Seven jars, all opened in the span of mere seconds. "There, all done. Can I go now?" It was late, after all and maybe today he had his day off, but tomorrow he had a very busy day.

"No wait! I have to use a certain amount, but then I won't use them again for a long time so you'll have to put them back on. Only this once, please don't make it so hard to open them again. It's you I bother again anyway."

"It's not my fault you have weak wrists."

She coloured. "I don't have weak wrists!"

"Then maybe I'm just too strong."

"Oh please."

And that was the last thing she said for a long time, as she started looking for Tupperware, scales and other cooking essentials.

He'd never admit it, but he actually did it on purpose, tightening the lids too much so she'd have to come a-knocking to loosen them again. So he simply took a seat in one of her kitchen chairs, hand on the table, supporting his head idly. He caught a glimpse of his fringe as a straight tuff of hair fell in his eyes; he needed to cut it again. They'd complain at the precinct again if it got too long.

As he watched her fuss about mildly entertained, he stole a glance at the open jars of marmalade on the counter, not more than an arm's length away…eyes darting back and forth, finally he did it: flicking one lid of, he sampled the contents with his finger. Hmmm, orange; his favourite flavour.

"Hajime!"

Of course she saw him. "Tokio," he matched her.

"Don't do that. And don't do it again."

"Why, I'll spoil it? With so many preservatives and-"

"Yes, I know, I'm a doctor; doesn't matter. Just don't do it."

"Whatever." As if she never spoke, he flicked the lid off of another jar and sampled some more! Hm, this one was strawberry, not bad.

"Saito, I swear to god!"

She rounded on him, brandishing whatever she was holding; he chuckled, finally satisfied with her reaction of threatening him with a spatula, and stood. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving; done with the dosages?"

"Yeah, just a second."

She took both of the marmalades he tasted and dumped each in a different container, while she weighed them one by one. "There; all done. You can close them again."

He very purposefully made a show of how few times he twisted the lid back in place – and yet, he knew he gave it a good squeeze and it'd trouble her later on – and put them back in their place. "Thank you, Hajime."

"Two times in one night you used my name, I'm honoured." Her smug look rivalled his and he couldn't help but offer her a sincere smile. "Goodnight Tokio; hope you midnight baking goes well."

She didn't have to see him out; he knew the way. And between the two of them, formalities were scarce anyway, considering their entire acquaintance and how it kicked off…making the walk to his apartment, he felt a little lonely at her absence.

Hm. That was a thought for the morning, definitely not now that he could turn around at any moment and do something stupid, nope, no, nuh uh…he sighed. Why did his parents have to buy the certain apartment? He shook his head and entered his apartment. Taking off his shoes, he dragged his feet to the admittedly comfortable couch he loved ever since he was a child and plopped down. Though he wasn't in the mood for the movie he was watching anymore, he still pressed play; he simply made a mental note of the minute he was on.

.

The sound of knocking jolted him from his near-sleep! He looked at the watch on his wrist; 01:38. Huh. That was too late. The knocking was heard again though, so it wasn't his imagination or an accident. He frowned. In his line of work things like these were suspicious yet, he didn't have a bad feeling. Still, he took his gun with him as he walked to the front door just to be safe. He braced himself by taking a calming breath. And then…

He opened the door!

Only to find a red-eyed, red-cheeked smiling Tokio up at him with a large baking pan in her hands. Now he wasn't an easily surprised man, but this he did not expect. "Yes?" He sounded just as tired as she looked still, she had the willpower to be pleasant; where she found it, he'd never know.

"I baked a cake."

"I can see that."

She seemed to be berating herself then—if she had an available hand, he was sure she'd smack her forehead. "I mean, I baked _you_ a cake. Here. This is for you."

He looked at her for a very long time; so long, in fact, she started feeling uncomfortable. "Um, it's kind of heavy and it is getting pretty late, so if y-,"

"Thank you," he cut her off, feeling all out of sorts "I'll take it."

He really must have sounded strange because despite her sleepiness, she looked up at him wondered. "Thank you for the cake," he schooled his voice in his usual baritone, forcing his face in his casual smirk "I'll taste it and make sure it's up to par."

She glared. Well, tried to, because it only looked like she was about to fall asleep standing and then proceeded to wave him off. "Aha, goodnight Saito." She didn't even wait for a reply, she turned around and left.

She missed his smile. "Goodnight Tokio," he called out.

He didn't shut his door till he made sure she was safely inside her home.

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 **A/N** : Please leave a review on your way out and let me know what you thought!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** : Heeeeeeey peeps, how are you? Is this an update? Yes, it is.

Inspiration struck and nyeheheh I have this story planned out so well in my head. Hope you like this little twist in the story, too.

I own none of the characters etc etc.

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Today had been a very busy day and for any person working with keeping the public peace that was never a good thing. From petty thefts to murder cases, the range was impossible; of course, being a detective had its perks and he was allowed to choose which one to take. That didn't stop him from taking many—too many, as the district attorney would say. In his defence, once he got around to them, the workload lessened significantly, as most of them were easy, at least for him: two cases of theft and one of robbery wrapped up all in the same day due to stupidity of the perpetrators and surveillance footage and a phone video.

The one he didn't solve was the murder. The murder never gets solved easily unless the killer wants to be found or turns themselves in. seeing this was maybe the opposite, too few leads existed and the forensics were…somewhat lacking. And not out of lack of effort from the team, the killer was just too meticulous.

Death by asphyxiation. That was…deeply personal; maybe a crime of passion? But something in his gut told him that this murder was, in fact, anything but a spur of the moment thing. Someone had planned this to the T; maybe he or she chose this method to make it look like it was personal, to drive away suspicion. This whole thing spoke of a…clinical kill. Detachment. Could be a hired hand since the victim was rich. But then someone close to them had commissioned it and by all accounts and evidence so far, the victim, a sixty year old woman, was secluded with virtually no social communication.

This was going to be a difficult case.

"Ah, yes, but once you find someone to focus on, you know I'll do my best to keep them locked up!"

Saito rolled his eyes. "You are the district attorney _shrimp_ , that's your job; don't sound like you're doing me a favour."

"I may be a shrimp but you're a wolf!"

"How is that worse?"

"Wolves have a bad name, _duh_." At Saito's rise of his eyebrows, as if challenging the other person's sanity, the shorter nan nodded sagely. "Plus, I taste great. Ask _all_ the ladies." The knock on his door stopped him from saying something very scathing. Shaking his head, he walked from his living room in a straight line, to the door.

"Hello neighbour!"

"Tokio; awfully spry for so late in the afternoon. Didn't you just finish your own shift?" his indication to even making that question was the still formal wear the woman donned—it was the first thing she'd shrug off whenever she came back.

"Yes actually, and I wanted-!"

"Tokio-chan!"

"Okita-kun!"

The man pushed Saito to the side and broke through to announce himself in a dramatic pose; she laughed. "So nice to see you again, it's been a long time," she said sincerely.

"Ah yes, because Saito is mean and won't let all three of us hang too often; he's jealous of my good looks and suave ways."

"I'm fed up with your flamboyant ways and boyish attitude; come on in," he motioned to Tokio "unless you want something to go."

She giggled and it did something weird to his heart to know he was the cause of that. "You're not take out, Saito," she said through them as she walked inside "I wanted to ask you for something. It might be too much for a neighbour to ask but seeing you're a cop…"

"Do you have problems with the law Tokio-chan? If so I am definitely more suited to helping-!"

"Ignore him; what is it?" he asked as they sat down on his couch.

He would have spoken earlier had he not been so absolutely terrified for a small, fleeting moment, that she might be encountering serious problems that would require the law to intervene. It nearly stopped his blood. And the way her cheeks coloured and looked away only made it worse because…this was not her cute evasion; this was her "oh god how do I say this" actual shame and reluctance. He was…worried.

"I uh…noticed my house was broken into two days ago."

"What?"

"Tokio-chan! You live next to a detective! Why didn't you come here earlier?"

Their scolding did nothing to improve her mood. "Thing is, nothing was stolen. Nothing at all." They glared. "No really. In fact, had it not been for some things that were not where I left them, I might have never realised. But I did. So since nothing was stolen, I didn't report it."

They glared more intensely; it was unnerving because even Okita had the same reaction and they usually didn't. "But, I was wary so what did I do? I bought some fluorescent dye and a black-light flashlight; just before I left yesterday, I applied it on the doorknob inside. When I got home, what do I see? Smudges of fluorescent paint on the outside doorknob and the door and a little bit on the wall."

He was almost furious right now but the thing is, the angrier he got, the deeper his voice sounded. He didn't shout, didn't even raise his voice; but she could tell all the same he was royally pissed because it sounded nearly wolfish. "And you still didn't come to me?"

"No I did; you just weren't home."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to control himself. "You could have called me." Okita opened his arms as if to say "duh".

"I know but you're always busy, didn't mean to add to your troubles."

"Tokio, you came knocking on my door at two o clock in the morning because your facet broke and you feared it'd flood the house last week-"

"That was an emergency!"

He disregarded both her protest and Okita's badly controlled laugh "-so it's safe to say you can some to me when your actual safety is concerned. _That's_ why I gave you my number; not so you can call me when you think someone might have broken into my house."

"How was I supposed to know it was your birthday and Okita wanted to surprise you? I mean, that's literally how I met him—it was more than half a year ago! _Besides_ , if you think how **we** actually met-!"

"Yes, I know, I remember; I was there. But that's not the point."

"Oh of course it isn't, how silly of me! The point is I'm a terrible neighbour and always annoy you with insignificant things."

 _Ugh no_ , why did she take it like that? Why couldn't he just get through to her? he had to make up for lost ground because the last thing he wanted was to let her think he didn't want her coming to him with all the ridiculous requests.

"Ne, Tokio-chan, I think what Saito means is that if he doesn't mind all the small stuff, he certainly wouldn't have minded the big stuff; and feeling unsafe in your own home is a pretty big deal, yes?"

 _Yes, thank you Okita_! Sometimes he really was a blessing, not that he'd ever admit it out loud. And when Tokio seemed to believe him, he felt a sudden surge of love ran through him for the shorter man. So she crossed her arms and pouted and looked away from both but didn't leave. "So you'll help me, right?"

"Of course we will!" _We_? Why was Okita including himself? "What do you need us to do? Lay in wait? Make an ambush?"

She laughed at the way his eyes lit up at his own suggestions; he was psyching himself up! She shook her head. "No, but that would have been hilarious. No, what I want is your advice and help: should I install cameras to catch the person in the act? Should I…install an alarm?"

"You should report this to the police so I can take your case for starters; did you wipe the paint or is it still there? There could be fingerprints left behind and if he's in the system, we can identify him immediately. The cameras aren't a bad idea, either."

"And once he catches him, I'll make sure he gets a just punishment!"

"It could be a woman you know," she opined.

"I bet it's a pervert; so it has to be a guy." Okita immediately countered.

"Or a lesbian." She insisted.

"How possible do you _really_ think that is?" he continued.

"Both of you, be quiet for a moment."

Tokio's attitude of "it may be a woman" wasn't wrong; Okita said it was a pervert but Okita wasn't a detective and he was guessing without any evidence. Gender would be easy to be identified once they got the prints—or some footage should she install cameras. "Did anything else seem out of order when you got home both times? What about now? Can I go check?"

"Of course! I even did the same trick with the dye so there must be more prints if they came in today again." They all stood and headed for her place. "But there was something that I noticed the first day; it looked like someone used my bathroom. I had taken a bath when I left so by the time I got home it should have dried. But it hadn't. It was still wet; there was the feeling of moisture in the air and I could swear the bottle of hair shampoo I had never used because the one time I did, it made me itchy…was used. I can't place why, but I thought it was used."

"Hmm…"

She handed him the black light flashlight and he turned it on even before she reached her home; sure enough, he saw hand prints on the walls…they led away from her house and towards the exit. "Should we follow it?" came Okita's breathless question.

"I will; you won't. Stay here." They both followed after him though. "I said stay here."

"As if!" Okita protested.

"We'll be behind you, you'll keep us safe."

The way Tokio said that, so naturally and matter-of-factly made him shut up. It wasn't a lie and, to be honest, it felt sort of ego stroking. Fine, let them come. He was already almost convinced the culprit was a child, thin one at that; either way, not at all that threatening.

They descended the stairs where the flashlight led them…downstairs. Not outside, but at the place all apartment buildings had either for storage or whatever the tenants needed: the basement. What in earth…? To be sure, it was a smart and convenient hiding place; virtually no one set foot down there, since all they wanted to store or simply keep out was taken down there the moment a new tenant moved in—or once every half a year. Meaning it was too rare for someone to go down there and should an intruder desire to hide, there they would have no encounters, unpleasant or otherwise.

It was a slow way down; once they reached the exact place the handprints disappeared from the walls, the two people behind him held their breaths. They turned the corner…and then they saw her. A young girl, no older than eight, thin and haggard, was sleeping on the floor. Her braid had lost most of its shape, like ink spilling on a page. Her breathing was even and they could tell by the steady rise and fall of her little body, as she lay on her side.

Okita turned shocked to an equally thunderstruck Tokio; when they saw Saito must have been probably expecting it, they simultaneously sort of glared at him but then gave one another an understanding look. "Tokio," Saito started, "why don't you go wake her up…?"

She nodded vigorously and took slow steps to reach her; she knelt beside her and gently pushed her. "Hey there…time to wake up now…"

Tokio couldn't believe her luck though; instead of a pervert or something even more sinister, she was greeted by this child. Of course, the child wasn't lucky at all, and she did feel the familiar pang of guilt at her own thoughts. Especially when this little thing looked so downtrodden.

Why was a child like her all alone in this big city, stealing food and living off of strangers anyway!?

"Honey, please wake up…" Nothing. "You need to wake up."

Still nothing. She huffed, both worried and frustrated; she grabbed the girl's wrist then and took her pulse…it was good. But "she still won't wake up. She's sleeping too deeply. It's kind of scary," she added as an afterthought.

"Okay, fine; step aside."

His defeated sigh and words came from way closer than she remembered him standing and when she turned and scooted over, she saw him taking the girl in his arms and then, with a nod to both people, he started ascending the stairs. They followed him again…but this once he headed back to his own apartment, and not Tokio's. Suddenly, she grew anxious.

"She's seen my place—she stayed in it for some time. Maybe we should get her there where she knows the interior a bit and won't be too scared when she wakes up."

"Tokio has a point…"

Saito rolled his eyes. "Are you two going to agree on everything?" That earned him another simultaneous double glare, as if to confirm his words; he shook his head amused as he opened the door to his apartment with his elbow – as he still led the party – yes with minimum effort, not to jolt the girl awake. "Joking aside, do you see anyone turning up to ask for her in the next twelve hours? It's already eight pm; she needs to sleep in a real bed and be safe. And the safest apartment in this whole complex is mine."

Okita seemed impressed. "You sure gave it a lot of thought…!"

"What's the tone of surprise for, idiot?"

The procession ended on his very comfortable couch, where he deposited the little girl; none failed to notice the way her foot lay limp from below the ankle; same with her hand below the wrist. In fact, both wrists looked abused. What did this little slip of a person had to go through at such a young age? Tokio's heart hurt.

And then her brain reminded her something…how she and Saito met. So she scoffed at his notion. "Your apartment the safest? Please!"

 _Oh really_ , said his eyes and even if his mouth remained perfectly shut she still heard it in her head. "Maybe my apartment is-!"

"No, it isn't the better option; the girl stays here till she is identified."

"But she won't wake up!" she countered immediately.

He gave her a look that must have been his equivalent of DUH! "I'll call the precinct and ask for any missing person's reports, especially those recently filed, for a young girl matching her description. She's obviously been through something but her clothes, even if torn and dirty, look like clothes that a person who loves a child would choose."

"I believe she was kidnapped." Okita offered his two cents.

"That can also be the case, hence I not making any rush moves. Tokio, you should bring your med kit here and look her over; she looks like she needs it."

She immediately became downcast at the sound of those words and they could swear they watched all fight leave her with her silent sigh. "She does."

"Oh, bring your ridiculous clothes with you—or change into them while you're there." She looked at him surprised. "What? She's a kid…a girl, too. Can't handle her on my own if she wakes up. You're staying here."

Tokio's expression made Okita laugh loudly, with her pursed lips and her judgemental raising of her eyebrows. "Oh I'm a woman so I must know how to deal with children, is that it?"

"Or, and I'm just saying now, or you're only doing this so Tokio-chan can sleep over, eh, eh, eh?" Okita asked excited, unabashed, nudging his friend with his elbow repeatedly all still in front of the woman in question who simply intensified her look.

Saito swatted Okita's elbow down while looking at Tokio uncomfortable. "…well, yes; I figured you'd be better at taking care of an eight year old girl than me…you were one once…plus, I've seen you with some young children before and they looked happy to see you so, how horrible can you be?"

She finally cracked a smile. "Those are my niece and nephew; they love me no matter what—and they better. Ok, fine, I'll help." She made to go but she stopped short. "Wanna bring anything over to eat? I mean real food, not the _things_ you have in your fridge." her disdain obvious for his choices.

"Beer and cold rice balls are fine!" Okita protested.

"And now I see why it's such a popular choice. Whatever; want me to bring something actually tasty along?"

The tall man shrugged uncaringly but his friend knew, oh how he knew, Saito could go living on nothing but junk food for _an aeon_ if it would make Tokio concerned enough to force-feed him her homemade meals because A) that meant she cared and B) that woman really knew how to cook. But the bastard let none of that show with his cool demeanour. Okita pouted but waited till he heard the door of Tokio's apartment click shut to say exasperated:

"How do you expect her to understand you like her when you won't even compliment her food? She basically gift-wrapped this!"

"Shut up, idiot."

"No really—you once said you think she doesn't realise you like her." Okita cleared his throat theatrically: "To thee I say: **how can see**? You won't give her any indication!" a moment passed. "Though props for manoeuvring this into her sleeping over man, good job."

"Shut up idiot; I did it for the child. We need to learn her identity. Somehow she…looks familiar."

A scandalised Okita brought a hand over the perfect circle that was his mouth; he gasped. "You don't think…the child may be yours?"

That earned him a well-aimed hit on the head. " _ **No,**_ you idiot! But it feels like this might touch upon something I came across at the very beginning of my career. Not solved, obviously…" His eyes became smaller, as his hand formed a fist over his mouth and chin. "I can just feel it, it's right there. If I find out the girl's name, I know it'll all fall into place. But that would require her waking up."

They both spared a look at the heavily sleeping girl on the couch, chest rising and falling without a hitch or a care in the world. "And she doesn't seem to be willing to do that for a while."

"Indeed," Okita agreed. "Well, maybe I can help you out. I'll go over some old cold cases and see what comes up. How about it?" Saito knew he could always count on this idiot; his nod was both an affirmation and a show of gratitude. "Perfect! I'll be going now then, leave you two lovebirds alone…"

This once he avoided the hit and chuckled on his way out. Then he heard Okita talks to someone in the hall and another second later-

"Heed me neighbour! I come with the offering of food and medicine; please open the door."

He chuckled; he could feel the smile forming but fought it back. Why did he like this person again? He walked to the threshold, looking through the eye-hole. She was already wearing her oversized home-garb and her usual mismatched socks. He waited a little before letting her in, on purpose. When he did, he was met by her questioning gaze, to which he elaborated:

"I was debating whether I should allow you in after that kind of talk and what kind of precedent that would create."

She slapped his arm. She had to actually let go of her med kit for a moment to do that.

Then she rolled her eyes.

She let herself in right after, headed straight for the kitchen and after leaving the plates she gave him a look, challenging him to eat without her and see what happens.

She went to the girl then and began her inspection.

He popped a chocolate truffle in his mouth, truffles she had brought and no doubt made herself, and made sure to be seen; she turned her head to him for a second, so _she_ could make sure he saw her see him, and that she _knew_ and how dared he.

He gave a crooked smile. That's right; this is why he liked her.

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 **A/N** : Now who's this girl, huh? I mean, who can it be?

xD I'm being too obvious, sorry. Anyway! Don't be a stranger friend. Leave a review on your way out and tell me what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Α/Ν** : Third chapter, oh my. I've been so productive on this fic. Amazing. So here is next chapteeeeee~r! Enjoy.

Disclaimers, disclaimers.

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"Wanna eat those curry noodles now?"

She raised her eyes to his only after she'd spoken. In return, Saito didn't have the will to look at her before he formulated his response.

"…yeah," was his tired answer, but the plate of noodles that were meant for him, was too far away…!

She seemed to understand his troubles and wordlessly slid the plate with the cold food towards him; its scraping on the table was the only sound in the room for that brief moment. Not a minute later he heard rather than saw Tokio getting out of her chair. Making for the cupboards with the culinary, she removed two glasses and then dragged her feet all the way to his fridge to pick out a bottle. It was either beer or water, but he couldn't be bothered to look back and make sure. It felt like an eternity later that she deposited one glass in front of him and the other next to her own plate of food and the bottle – ah, water after all – in between. Then she quite literally threw herself in her previous spot and picked up her chopsticks.

A lazy "let's eat" was heard from both. Slowly, they dag in.

"I'm sorry they got cold," was the first sentence spoken after at least ten minutes "they don't taste as good." The food was far from over and they could reheat it in his microwave at any moment…were they not both so exhausted, even moving their hands felt like a chore.

He snorted. "If I were you I wouldn't have cooked on the first place. You're doing me a favour." She smiled. "I don't even know where you found the strength to bring out the water."

She shrugged. "I'm used to the impossible hours."

He gave her a look. "Me, too but this is different."

Her face morphed into an expression like she knew something he didn't. "…this is what I do all day, you know; take care of people. Examine them, take their temperature, stitch them up…it's just a tiring day at the ER as far as I'm concerned."

He realised there was new-found appreciation for her in him at those words; he made a mental note to show her his own brand of gratitude at some point. He swallowed his food with some water and looked at her. "So how bad is the girl?"

"…not too bad. Her left ankle is twisted and her right wrist not broken but a fractured bone here and there…both ankles and wrists bare ligature marks while her entire body – though clean because of the bath she took in my tub two days ago – is riddled with bruises and lacerations. All very fresh, maybe a week old." She hesitated. "All very consistent with a victim of kidnapping that managed to escape."

He looked at her and she could tell he wasn't really seeing her, but the possibilities of what she mentioned. "…indeed; of course we can't rule out her own family or surrogate family did this" he ignored her horrified expression "but I have a feeling she was indeed kidnapped. But we still can't rule anything out."

In fact, his own intuition was telling him this girl was very important in an old case, one of the first cases he ever looked at as a straight out of the academy rookie but could not for the life of him remember said case. If only he knew her name…!

"Alright, yes" she conceded "but she was certainly bound and gagged, held for some time, but no more than five days or else the effects on her mouth and hands would have been far more severe."

"…so we have a time-frame."

"I'm simply conflicted about her not waking up even after I examined her and bound her ankles and wrists! I used stuff that stings and some that smells on purpose, but nothing. Her heart-beat is fine, but her eyes won't open."

"No, they did." She looked at him hopeful. "I saw her looking at you for a moment; she fell asleep immediately after, she must have been too tired." Then a small smirk graced his lips. "And you are a woman so she must have felt safe by your presence, too…"

Knowing looks were exchanged as she lazy pursed her lips. "I never said you wouldn't need my help; I was simply annoyed that you assumed."

"…not completely."

Then she finally put her hands to work again; he imitated her and there was another short spell of nothing but sounds of eating. Once they were done, and they were hungry enough to leave nothing on the plate, they murmured the typical "thanks for the meal" and stood.

"I'll take the girl in my room; you sleep with her."

"No, no, you don't have to." She stretched after a big yawn. "I bet you're very tired, too. The couch seems comfy enough and the girl is so small, it'll be" another yawn "fine."

"Yes, leave the possibly kidnapped victim in the living room where the security is minimum." Her cheeks reddened with guilt. "I'll take her inside, you go sleep there with her. if anything, it'll be easier for her if she wakes up."

"…alright, agreed. Will you be fine?"

"Yeah. Hey, will your hours be the same all week?"

She tried to remember. "Err, yes; I finish up around seven, eight tops I'm back. Why?"

"Till we find out who she is and who's missing her, I wanna have someone at home with her at all times; if she _was_ kidnapped and managed to escape on her own, she might wanna do the same here."

"But we can't have that."

He nodded and could feel himself sway. He didn't even have to look at the clock to see the time—he could feel it: well past three. "Exactly. So I'll make sure I take the first shift at the station; ask them if you can take the two o'clock, alright? Under normal circumstances you'll be here by eleven and you won't be too tired. Which days are you ER extras?"

They moved towards the couch. "Day after tomorrow and Sunday but I take the shift around 3 in the morning. A colleague asked for a favour," she had to explain.

"Heh, finally they gave you another day than Saturday." They both chuckled; he took the little one in his hands carefully. "I'll make sure Okita or Hijikata—a friend from the force," was now his turn to explain "is here to take care of her on these days."

He walked in first, turning the lights on with his elbow. He made sure the girl's head was properly propped up on the pillow of his bed – he had changed the sheets when he first got the chance, three hours ago – and proceeded to look into his closet for a new set of clothes, seeing these were wrinkled and a mess.

She took this time to look around his room – without ever moving an inch, she was too tired – and was struck at how neat and clean it was. Papers all stacked straight in two distinct piles, two cupboards that each had case notes in alphabetical order and, what really drew her attention, his office was almost bare save for a lamp and a pen. His closet was big for a man living on his own, made from the same wood as his office and his bed, also too big for one person. On either side of the king-sized bed was a small table. Both had nothing on top, save for a glass of water on the left one.

This bedroom looked like a married couple's bedroom to be honest. "So, try and change your shift; goodnight, Tokio."

"Goodnight, Saito." He had three different hangers with clothes draped over his hand, a black shirt, blue trousers and blue matching jacket. "When will you be leaving?"

"Two hours from now."

"WH-SAITO! Get some proper sleep! I'll send my sister over or something to cover for me when I'm off to work, just sleep prop-!"

"Goodnight Tokio," he repeated, closing the door on her.

She instantly pouted and made for the door—but stopped. She knew he was very stubborn; he'd never change his mind. So if she went out there and started making a fuss, he'd only lose more sleep. Her defeated sigh signalled the vitality leaving her body, and she fell face first into the bed.

Hmm, it was very comfortable. Good for the back, she realised, must have been an anatomic mattress. Heh! She'd have pegged him for the futon type of person. She smiled at herself as she buried her head under the blanket, always including the little girl. Ooh, it was warm! Not that his house wasn't usually warm and winter was over but this blanket was so warm…! It felt like it was hugging you, so snuggly; she could even feel Saito in it and—

Oh.

The blanket smelt like him. The sheets might have been changed – she said she could do it, but he had refused, claiming it was his home, she shouldn't bother – but the blanket couldn't be changed, right? So it really had his smell and it wasn't a stretch to imagine him there lying next to her…She felt her cheeks get warmer but it had nothing to do with temperature. She covered her face! Should she wake up, the girl shouldn't even look at her with these kind of thoughts she was making, she'd corrupt her or something!

Ugh, why was this happening? So what if he was tall and serious and had this deep voice and was always accommodating to her even if he didn't have to be despite being snarky and sarcastic—which wasn't all that bad honestly, not when he could be like her previous asshole of a boyfriend who lied through his teeth and—NO!

 _Sleep Tokio. Sleep._

She forced her eyes closed, her mind empty and her stomach to unclench. And just like that, she was fast asleep in seconds.

.

"Hello! Are you my guardian?"

Rays of light hit the doctor's face; it was refreshing and satisfying. She loved being woken by the warmth of the sun. She must have tossed and turned a lot in her sleep, too because she could clearly remember pulling it over their heads. Ah, never mind, she loved the sun waking her up—no wait. Something else awoke her.

She opened her eyes wide and saw the smiling face of the previously almost comatose girl looking down at her brightly! She was munching on a banana without a care in the world, squatting next to her on the bed. She was holding the fruit with her left hand, the one less hurt than the other, and appeared unbothered by the many bandages and plasters all over her.

"Good morning…" she had to take a second to remember what the girl called her. A guardian…? Sitting up, she rubbed her neck and eyes. "My name is Takagi Tokio, I'm a doctor. I live next door to this apartment. What's your name?"

The girl's eyes, as black as her now freshly-combed hair back into a braid, shone with recognition. "Oh! So the apartment I used to break in was yours!" Did she have to be so blunt? Tokio's disapproval was written all over her face. Seeing it, the girl's smile turned coy. "Sorry. And I'm sorry I had to do it, too but I ran away and I didn't know what else to do—grandpa says people are mean and won't hesitate to take advantage of you no matter how old you are, so you can only trust family! But you aren't family so I just broke in."

That prompted the natural question of "How did you know to break in anyway?" but she did her best not to sound judgemental and judging by the girl's smile, no offence was taken.

"Oh! Aoshi-sama taught me, for self-pres…present…no, how did he call it? Preservation! Preservation reasons only."

Tokio was taking mental notes in heaps and bounds but the name she made sure to remember. "Hmm, I see; and who is this Aoshi-sama?"

"Only the kindest, most awesome person in the world! He's so young, only eighteen, but already a head of the family—gramps made him. He used to take great care of me when gramps couldn't even if he can't do it now, he could still do it if he had time! Aoshi-sama's so great…"

Oh? Only ten years older than her and he used to take care of her? And she only talks of a grandfather; maybe her parents died. She also had to determine is this Aoshi was a member of the family by blood or another orphan picked up.

But the most important thing was "you still haven't told me your name young lady! I gave you mine, not fair."

"Oh right!" that was the first time her cheeks were coloured with some sort of shame. "I'm Makimachi Misao, granddaughter of the infamous Okina."

More names she had to file away for later use.

"I see…pleasure to meet you, Misao-chan." She stretched then and Misao followed her example; she cracked her neck and she did, too. Oh, interesting. She stood and Misao stood, too; she tried not to smile. "How do you feel today Misao-chan?"

Misao was up to Tokio's waist, kind of short for a girl of that age; not that Tokio was all that tall, but she was above average for Japanese standards. But Misao was extremely thin, her thighs barely little more than bone and the necessary muscle, making a very big contrast with Tokio's oversized clothes – that hid the little excess weight she'd put on a year ago when she broke up –.

"I feel great! My leg feels almost good and my wrist doesn't hurt as much, too."

Tokio had noticed how the girl was putting more of her weight on one foot or else she'd have made her sit the moment she stood. They exited the bedroom and found themselves at the end of the small hallway. Right opposite this room was another door that led to the spacious bathroom. On its right was a door she herself had never opened so had no idea what could be behind it. And the hall led into the living room and kitchen where the girl jumped onto the couch.

She winced at the motion and Tokio scolded her with but a look. She pretended not to see it.

"That's good to hear; would you like some breakfast?" Her watch read ten am; she would definitely have some and then she'd call the hospital to let them know she'd take a later shift. Yeap that was the plan.

"I already ate a banana; and a piece of cake; and drunk a glass of milk; and ate some rice-balls."

"H…how long have you been awake?"

"About an hour. I was hungry."

Well, if she ate that much regularly and she'd only been kidnapped for a short period of time then maybe her weight was just something she had no control over it. "Okay; I'll eat some cereal. Care to join me?"

"Sure! Oh, you said you're a doctor right? Then you did this!" she showed her wrist proudly and smiled. "Thank you for treating me."

"You're very welcome."

Great; she had the kid's favour. Now all that was left was to discuss the serious stuff with her and hopefully she wouldn't shut down on her crying.

.

.

"I'm back."

Saito's voice came through the opening door, announcing himself before he walked in.

Tokio had called him on his cell, all excited and incomprehensible not four hours ago, claiming she had excellent news about the girl – and her work – but she could not make out the details because she was talking way too fast and he was about to solve his murder.

Usually murders like that could take weeks to be solved but the morning he went to the lab, one critical piece of evidence was discovered: cigarette butts. Well hidden, but he had managed to find them, under a loose floorboard, covered by the rug. The only reason he looked there was because his leg had bumped in a lump on the carpet, when it should have been completely flat. So he looked down: the carpet wasn't hitched up by a chair or anything, so he pulled the rug off and saw a small piece of wood jut out. He took out the floorboard and found there the cigarette butts. Not one, not two but about a dozen of them.

Alright, he too enjoyed smoking, but this was ridiculous. For the killer to go to such lengths to hide them, it meant they were important. And they were fresh, still fluffy and had the exact same scent his own cigarettes have when he leaves them in the ash tray for about a day. But what cracked the case was…there was lipstick residue on the butts. And it perfectly matched the old woman's shade of lipstick when they found her.

It couldn't have been applied post mortem nor could she have been forced to do it for it was applied perfectly, matching the way she did it in all of her photos. So that either meant she did it on her own or a woman applied it for her when she was bound. But she had no ligature marks – on the contrary of the little person in his own house – so it was safe to assume she did it on her own. If she was being otherwise threatened, she would fight or at least tremble so the result wouldn't be nearly as perfect.

So a bunch of cigarettes found hidden, smoked by the victim. Not two or three of them, but a dozen. Hidden. Hm…could it be…the victim commissioned her own death? He immediately took out his cell and that's when it rang.

It was Tokio who told him all about the girl, whose name he didn't hear. He was very glad, but still had to call the morgue.

So he did what he set out to do and called the coroner. "What's strange about my victim?"

" _Of course_ it's you, detective Saito! Just how in earth do you do that?" Saito could picture the man's exasperation and surprise. "I was just about to call you."

"Then tell me already."

"I found that your victim has a cancerous tumour at her pancreas. Nasty thing. It's a good thing they killed her when they did, or else she'd have died a slow painful death for three months. Her killer seemed like he was doing her a favour."

"I see; thank you."

He hanged up.

So it is entirely possible she did it to herself; contracted someone to kill her off, give him a bunch of money or maybe some of the estate. He had looked in her finances yesterday but just to get a sense of her assets, which were plenty. But he hadn't thought to check her bank accounts yet, especially for payments made by her to other people that were a large sum.

Once he did though and looked at her transactions, it was as clear as day: she was the one who commissioned her killing. She made four big payments in the last week that amounted to 22,511,215.54 yen. That was a very arbitrary number…till he converted it to dollars: exactly 200.000 dollars. A good payday for any criminal.

Now all he had to do was find out whose account it was, in whose name etc; that would be relatively easy…or so he thought at first at least, because when he started looking into it, he was literally buried by paperwork and needless formalities and he was bounced from one bank to the other—he even had to call to a bank over at America to make sense of it all. But when he did, the entire affair was finally cleared. He found the man's name and that's all he needed.

It was an American name, but it belonged to a very Japanese face; when he ran him through the system, it turned out he was here with a work visa. How interesting. He'd go arrest him now and then he'd look further into his business, just to check whether this was a onetime thing for this person or his business was killing; he had filled for and gotten one many a times these past years.

But was it fifteen to three already? He had to leave, he was late!

He had never made it home so fast; he took a cab instead of the transit, leaving the car he used for cases back at the precinct. All it took was fifteen minutes to get home. Damn, how did he allow himself to get carried away like this? He knew he didn't have anyone to come home to before this but this was the whole point, not to leave the girl alone! And had Tokio left, he wouldn't blame her, because she had to get to work…though he did hope she hadn't, she'd waited.

But in case that had happened, he first announced himself and then walked in, in order not to scare the girl too much. How was he supposed to expect what happened next though?

Something flew at him from his blind side.

"MONSTER BIRD KICK!"

He reacted without thinking. His hand was repelling the tiny assailant while his brain registered this wasn't an actual threat; so his other hand reached out and grabbed the girl from the waist and put her over his shoulder.

"Misao-chan what are you doing!? Don't put so much-ah…"

Tokio's hand went to her forehead and slid down her face. As if that gesture wiped away her previous mood she smiled up at him. "Welcome back Saito," she said kindly and then looked at the bundle struggling to free herself on his shoulder, screaming "let go of me" and "who are you" repeatedly, in rapid succession.

"Misao-chan, stop struggling, please. This is the owner of the house we are in right now."

"Humph!"

But she still did what he told her. "Saito, please put her down, on the couch preferably."

He took off his shoes without bending down but still did as she instructed; Misao was now looking between both of them, a question lurking somewhere in her young mind. "Alright, Misao-chan, look at me:" she stared strictly "first of all, we don't climb up furniture and jump so high when our ankle is still healing, because you put too much pressure on it and it might set you back. Second of all, we **don't** kick people for no reason! Thirdly, this man lives here, it's his home. You're smart and you know this isn't my house but someone else's so now someone who walked in, saying they came back, obviously has nothing to hide, yes?"

She wouldn't look at her; pouting, she was looking down and to the side, seated on the couch, squatting, hands crossed. "I was only trying to protect us! He could be one of the kidnappers who found me!"

"I see…well, this is not the case. I'm happy you wished to protect us and thank you. But honey, I'm the adult, correct? I'm responsible for you and your safety—and mine, not the opposite. Okay? You don't have to be the strong one."

They could see her eyes well up a little, but tears didn't leave her eyes, stubbornly. Still, she nodded in agreement.

"Great. Saito, this is Makimachi Misao, granddaughter of the famous Okina, charge of the young, gifted Shinomori Aoshi."

His expression never changed, but Tokio saw it all; the subtle change of micro expressions, the twitching of his mouth upwards, the memory returning…he knew who this child was. Or at least, whom she was connected with.

"Misao-chan, this is Saito Hajime; we are guests in his house."

"Humph!"

"Misao-chan…"

"…I mean hi."

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm ending it there on purpose. Don't worry, it won't have too many chapters, he he he.

Leave a review on your way out, won't you?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** : Exposition, exposition, I'm churning it out as I go~

I just wanted to write this so badly! But it's amazing how inspired and uninspired I was so this came out. Have at it. Good god, long chapter ahead. You've been warned.

* * *

"Saito, this is Makimachi Misao, granddaughter of the famous Okina, charge of the young, gifted Shinomori Aoshi."

His expression never changed, but Tokio saw it all; the subtle change of micro expressions, the twitching of his mouth upwards, the memory returning…he knew who this child was. Or at least, whom she was connected with.

"Misao-chan, this is Saito Hajime; we are guests in his house."

"Humph!"

What a delightfully unruly child. Tokio tried not smile. "Misao-chan…" she prompted.

"…I mean hi." She reluctantly greeted and Saito did his best to remain serious. Seeing the amusement in his eyes, Tokio went back to her pot on the stove and checked the contents.

"Hello; I'm glad to see you're finally awake. You've been sleeping for too long."

Food was ready.

"You'd sleep like that, too if you were running away for three days without rest!"

"Well, you'll be safe here. I promise you that much."

They could tell she was relieved by his words yet she wanted to "save face" and not give in immediately so she pouted and turned away. "Whatever."

"Misao-chan, you should thank Saito-san; and after you do, come eat your lunch. In fact, we should all eat;" she turned to the tall man "go wash up and change; we'll wait. Won't we Misao-chan?"

"I guess I can wait for ten more minutes…"

Tokio's smile was almost blinding to the young girl; and when she rubbed her back encouragingly, Misao blushed. "What a good girl." Now she was about to blow! "What else do we say?"

Saito was watching the whole exchange with a detached curiosity, untying his tie with deft fingers; when Misao turned and looked at him though, he put the tie on the couch and looked at her properly. She was looking away, looking at her feet, everywhere but him…but still stood with her back straight in front of him. She cleared her throat and braced herself for what she had to say. Saito now took off his jacket but also stood otherwise unmoving in front of her.

Tokio pretended to busy herself with preparations for the – much delayed – lunch and no matter she actually took out plates and the like, her eyes and ears were glued on them.

"Th…" Tokio held her breath; Misao stumbled on her own words but pressed on. "Thank you for letting me stay here," she finally admitted, more heat rising to her face since Saito wouldn't let her out of his sight for a second. "A…nd I'm s-"

His hand landed on her head. She flinched when she felt the contact but when nothing else happened, but his palm resting atop of her head, she dared to look up at him through her eyelashes.

He nodded and she knew he accepted her thanks and concealed apology. Huh; he might have been nicer than she had originally thought; maybe he was like Aoshi-sama, all silent and broody and she misjudged him. A grin graced her lips.

"Now go wash your hands," he ordered, and they watched her bounce to the bathroom.

Tokio shook her head. "She's so simple."

"And you're a kid whisperer." His smirk was teasing. "She looks very free-spirited and easy going but you make her do whatever you want. Impressive."

"My child-rearing skills are nothing like you're implying," her cheeks dusted with red "but I managed to connect with her."

"Aha, and you felt offended I wanted you to help."

"Oh hush! I never said I wouldn't help you…anyway, I have loads to tell you!"

"Right, but before that, thanks for waiting for me to come; you can go now."

Her face lit up as she waved him off. "That's one of the things I wanted to tell you: given recent events and all the implications, I decided to take a week off work!"

He looked at her stricken, creating a huge contrast with her expectant smile. "…you didn't have to do that," was all he managed to string together.

"It's okay!" she exclaimed, slapping his arm "you took such an early shift, you must have been very serious. And I haven't had a vacation for…wow, even before I moved here! Hell, I deserve a paid leave of absence after a year and a half, don't you think?"

"Yeah…but you must understand, you can't take her to your place. I know it'd be easier—,"

"Ah don't worry about it, I won't; I'll stay here…if you don't mind. I'll keep an eye on her, I'll cook. I'll even clean up, it's no big deal."

Speechless, he remained there, looking at her as if she was something extraordinary. But his silence was misinterpreted by the woman whose lips tugged downwards and her brows creased. "What? You don't like…the idea?"

"No it's just…thank you. That really helps."

Doubts dispersed, she waved him off again, smiling as brightly as before. "Don't mention it! Now go change."

"Ah right." He moved to go but stopped short, a little too close for comfort. He leaned in and for a moment her head came up with some ridiculous reason as to why. But then he opened his mouth to speak and she mentally kicked herself for what she had thought. "Don't tell the girl what I do for a living. I'll explain later."

He made to move again but stopped a second time. He took a whiff. "What d'you cook?" his face was unreadable.

"Pork tonkatsu with rice, some steamed vegetables for sides and soy sauce."

"…it smells very good."

The way he said it didn't sound like a compliment but she could tell he was paying her one; and somehow that made her entire day even better.

They sat at the table eight minutes later exactly; Misao timed him. Tokio had three glasses full of water on the table now, next to each person's plate, bottle full. She had ran across the hall to her house for a moment and brought some juice for Misao, in case she asked for some. She even put a couple of pillows on her chair to make her taller and eat with ease. She was eight but very dexterous with the chopsticks so she refrained from bringing spoons and forks, too.

Her behaviour, to both adults, was deemed more than satisfactory; her manners, albeit childish, were very proper.

"You cook very well nee-san; thanks for the food. Can I go lie down now?"

"Of course; but go wash your mouth and hands first, okay?"

Misao smiled, teeth and all. "Okay!" without another word, she jumped down and trotted to the bathroom; they waited a moment till she re-emerged and headed to the bedroom. When enough time for an eight-year-old to have fallen asleep passed, only then did they resume their talk.

"So what else did she tell you about her family?"

"Why don't you tell me what you remembered?"

He gave her a look like he had no idea what she was talking about; she returned it with one that communicated she wasn't as naïve as he'd want her to be or he thinks she is. The silent argument was over when Saito couldn't help but smile at her persistence. "I think you'd rather not hear it; wouldn't want to mess with your opinion of her family now that you two look to get on so well."

Another look and he chuckled. "Why don't you tell me what she divulged and I'll tell you all I remember."

"…alright. Well, she pretty much told me everything that happened to her this past week, month even. That Aoshi-sama of hers was named head of the family and there was to be a party…that's when they kidnapped her. After the party had ended, they came and took her. Her grandfather Okina undoubtedly is searching for her, she said, but until she can see people who look like her family, she won't go anywhere. Ah yes, she decided to stay here with me because apparently I have a trustworthy face."

"You do, indeed."

She took the last bite from her food, asked "you done?" and after he nodded she started piling up their dishes. When she was done, she left them in the sink, removing any excess sauce with the water. Then she took the sponge, poured the soap and started scrubbing.

He watched her amazed; it was so natural to her. She moved around his house as if she was living in it: cooking, cleaning dishes, claiming she'd _just_ clean like it was normal. It wasn't. In fact, it was so strange and rare for her to stay at his apartment for so long, he was staring. Cheek in hand, elbow supporting the head on the table, he kept staring.

Hard.

How her hands moved, how she whistled a tune, how she used her shoulders to take some stray tuffs of hair out of her face because her hands had soap on them…her movements left no action go wasted, while everything was done as if she were dancing. Now her lips moved and she must have been singing but somehow he heard no sound. He simply stared at her face and her form go back and forth…

And then her face was twisted into an angry expression and he blinked. What did he miss?

"You promised you'd tell me everything but still won't answer any of my questions!"

Oh; she wasn't singing. She was talking to him. Still, she turned around to glare but was taken aback by how serene he looked. "Saito, are you alright?"

"A little sleepy." _Lies_ ; well, not exactly. He watched her for so long, he was mesmerised by the movement and finally his exhaustion came out. So technically, half-lies.

"Of course you are," she seemed to be blaming herself "you only slept, what, an hour and a half? Good god, I'm so sorry; you go rest and then you'll tell me about her family in detail…and I'll tell Misao to describe the kidnappers to you…but only if you speak first."

They shared a knowing look; he conceded. "Oh, do you want to sleep in your bed? I could tell Misao to crush on the couch, it's very comfortable."

"No, I'll get the couch; I already changed anyway." He seemed to have come up with something then. "I'll wait for a while, you go bring more stuff over."

She laughed. "I can do it in the afternoon; a couple of hours won't kill me." His eyes narrowed. "Your power naps never last more than that."

"How would you know that?"

"…we are neighbours!"

As if that explained everything, she shook her head and finished the conversation. "Now, if you want to wait, wait for me to fetch you a blanket."

Just as he was about to say "no need" in that dismissive tone of his, she glared so readily and intensely he took an actual step back, raising his hands in defence! "I'll wait."

Evidently appeased, she set out to do what she declared. But she'd only spent a night in his room, how could she know where was what? Okay, she was smart, she'd figure it out but still! The last thing he wanted was a repeat of yesterday when all he could think about when trying to sleep was her in his room, in his bed…he pinched the bridge of his nose.

An hour and a half she said? He hadn't slept at all! Only copious amounts of caffeine had kept his eyes open. And then hunger. And now…waiting for her; thinking about her; her in general. Ugh, he had it bad; and she was being so domestic, it wasn't fair. Couldn't she be a bad cook, at least? Or not be so ready to help, it was difficult to keep all these feelings in order and _down._

But he'd have to…ah, he was so tired…but his house now smelt like fresh vegetables and hot rice…and her…but sleep…

"Okay, here's a bla-…"

She came to an abrupt halt, looking at the man on the couch; he was so tried he slept sitting up! Head tilted backwards in an awkward manner, no doubt which would hurt him when he woke up. Regarding him, she gave a warm smile. He really bent-over-backwards for others. She assessed the situation; a moment passed. Slowly, she put the blanket she fished out of the closet down on the armchair – she'd brought a bedsheet, too but there was no time for that now – and moved to angle him so he'd put his feet on the couch and his head on the soft material.

He grunted, but didn't wake up.

But damn, he was tough to move; it was the height, really—it was deceptive. She struggled but no result. She could do it if she was rougher, but didn't wanna wake him…so she was in a stalemate. She took the blanket in her arms; if she couldn't make him comfortable at least she'd keep him warm.

She spread it over him, making an effort to cover him entirely – again with that height of his – but just when she was about to leave she stumbled like an idiot and fell on his stomach! No, she didn't wanna wake him up! Breathless, she looked at him…only to see he was still fast asleep. Oh thank god. She made to stand, but…now he had already grabbed her waist, finally curling in a correct position for his body.

She blushed as she wriggled to get free. He really had a death grip…but didn't feel all that bad he wouldn't let go. She blushed harder when she realised maybe she didn't want him to let go of her. She had an internal fight then, what was the right thing to do? Wait…was there a _right_ thing? What's so bad about this anyway? She cared for this person, she considered him a friend at the very least and if she could help him rest, there was no real problem. So…she stayed there. She brought her legs up, made herself comfortable and inwardly promised to wait till he woke up.

.

.

A sharp sound; artificial light…and a voice. Someone was calling his name. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. The fact that the first face he saw was a small girl's was so novel, he nearly flinched. But there Misao was, smiling at him brightly! Oh, so there wasn't trouble. His heart rate significantly slowed from a second ago and tried to focus on the image before him. But something was blocking half his view.

"Saito-san, you have something on your shoulder."

It took him a second to process her words; once he did, he instinctively looked at his shoulder…only to have his nose bump into something. Something soft. Soft but hard at the same time. He was perplexed; maybe it had to do with the fact that his vision still swam. But when it came into focus again, he discerned a person's back and the soft material of their blouse…

Was that…Tokio? Was she sleeping next to him on the couch!? What happened?

He heard the girl giggle as he sat up, even more perplexed than before; how did she come to sleep at his side? And that was his hand around her waist! When did all of these happen, what in earth? No wonder the eight year old was giggling. He tried to sit up with the least impact possible, but how could that be when his hand was around her yet somehow the rest of him remained inside the blanket and she was lying on it? it came as no surprise when she too stirred and started waking up.

He stood from the couch before she fully came to, too self-conscious and embarrassed by his wandering, betraying arm. Last thing he remembered, he was waiting for her to bring him a blanket; and now this. Serious lapses in memory or simply too tired to remember it?

"What" a yawn "time is it?"

He looked at his watch. "…seven thirty! When did it get so late?"

She stretched, still on the couch and Misao came and jumped next to her. "Well, you were pretty tired. It was too late you went to sleep and too soon you rose for work. Isn't that right Misao-chan?"

"Yes it is!"

"And I must have been tired because last few days I'd been working 16 hours-shifts at the hospital and yesterday was the only normal day."

She stopped talking, obviously still sleepy but making the effort to stand. Now that she stopped talking though, the air was filled with silence. He didn't like it this particular moment. "…want something to drink?"

"Some…" another yawn "tea would be nice." She blinked repeatedly, trying to find her bearings. "I haven't had this much rest in…years! This is so peculiar. What do I do with the rest of my day?"

He chuckled. "Read a book maybe? Go to your apartment and take whatever you need, too."

"Ah, books; I remember a time when I used to read them for recreational purposes…so long ago…"

"What kind of tea do you want?"

"If you're making tea for yourself, too just use the same blend."

"Alright." He was going to do just that; green tea for both then. "And what do you want kid?"

"To go outside!"

He snorted. "Only if you cut your hair and let Tokio dye them blond and find you some more clothes."

"Oh god, yes! Clothes—we need to buy her clothes. She's too thin though so I don't think we'll have a problem with size. We can order them online."

"Or one of us, preferably you, can go and buy them. And I need to report her missing or kidnapped-!"

"NO!"

The staunch refusal of the eight year old drew both parties' attention, even if for admittedly very different reasons. She blushed by the sudden attention but didn't stop there. "Gramps repeatedly warned me against going to the police should I ever be in trouble and said he didn't want them involved. I bet they are looking for me on their own but, if you report me, the people who kidnapped me will know; gramps said they have people on the force that's on their payroll."

And if Tokio had but an inkling as to what her family and the other family could really be, now she was certain: they were mobsters. Both her family and the ones who took her, they were rivalling yakuza. Great.

"…I'll try to keep it quiet then," was what Saito said but in fact, he was already trying to think who could be on the take; children like her never lied, so her accusations were both honest and he would bet his left hand – his good hand – also truthful. Okina no doubt wanted to keep her safe and she was right that no doubt they were already looking for her. One of the reasons he didn't want her going outside; her kidnappers and her yakuza family might catch a glimpse of her.

But he needed both to stay away if he were to solve the case of six years ago and this one, too. And if he did, considering the rate at which he's been solving cases, it wouldn't be a stretch to think they might finally let him transfer from the CIS to Tokyo's PSB in a year from now, despite the young of his age. And that would be ideal for the path he wanted to follow. Of course, he needed to tell his Chief Inspector, aka Hijikata, the name of the girl and to keep an eye out for any information if he couldn't or missed anything. He knew he would; he already agreed to help him with her.

But what an irony; the girl didn't want the police to get involved and he ran into a cop. Thinking about it, he'd better hide his ceremonial uniform and keep his badge on his person at all times. You never knew when a kid might go exploring.

"So what do _you_ want to drink?"

"The juice from lunch please!"

"No," Tokio interjected "you drunk that once today already. Pick something else."

"Will you give her a break? She's been kidnapped."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed and went to the side of her unexpected supporter.

"Children need boundaries."

"She's not your child; and she's been kidnapped. She can drink whatever she likes till she gets home."

"Hajime, you do as I say; and don't do this."

"Do what?"

" _Challenge my authority in front of her_!" she fervently whispered.

"…fine. But saying she isn't yours doesn't challenge that." he stood a little further, motioning to the girl to wait as Tokio followed him. "It's great you wanna teach this kid rules and all but give her a break. She's eight, she was kidnapped and she wants juice; let her have some juice. Also, this is my house; if you brought the damn thing over for her, let her have some."

She pursed her lips, crossing her hands; "besides, if this was your kid, I bet you'd practically wait on her."

Half-glaring half-thinking she looked away and kept glaring at nothing. "Fine." She went to leave but he stopped her.

"Well, go tell her she can have some; she'll think I'm overriding you."

She gave him a surprised look; that was thoughtful! She went and told her just that, kissed her on the top of her head and left for her apartment.

When she came back, she was pale and very well-dressed; he supposed she was late because she was gathering her things and even though that too was true, she was also wearing a form-fitting skirt, coupled with a modern shirt and a short jacket. Her face had make up, lipstick, the whole thing.

She looked…beautiful. This must have been the first time he ever saw her so formal. It suited her; but somehow it looked foreign on her! Maybe it had to do with the fact he always saw her with baggy clothing or her work attire, strictly trousers and all.

"You look so pretty nee-san!" Misao exclaimed and ran to hug her.

She spared the girl a warm smile. "Thank you, Misao-chan!" but then turned to Saito apologetic. "I'm so, _so_ sorry; I have to talk to a symposium today and I completely forgot about it! It starts in an hour—it takes twenty minutes to get there so I still have time to cook something or-!"

He raised his hands to show her she needn't fret. "…whom are you going with?"

She blanched. "Ah, damn; I hadn't thought of that. Um…I don't have a date. Fu-uuuudge. I'm the main speaker, too! Oh fudge; they even said I _should_ bring one."

She bit the inside of her cheek and chewed, only because she didn't want to bite her lip and ruin her lipstick. "I could call my brother-in-law if he's not busy; or there's this co-worker who—!"

"Tokio, Tokio, relax;" he grabbed her shoulders " _I'll_ go with you. I'll just have to call in that favour earlier than I thought."

"Favour? And what about Misao-chan?"

" _Oooh, I wanna come!"_

" _You can't honey; I'm sorry."_

" _But-!"_

"The favour **is** about her; I asked Hijikata if he could come at a moment's notice to take care of her in case both of us couldn't; he said yes." He was texting while explaining, heading to his bedroom. Misao followed after him, protesting her heart out.

But Tokio's eyes sparkled. "You'd do that? Thank you so much! Oh god, really thank you, you're a life saver!"

Well, he had his own ulterior motives. He smirked. "Can't have you looking actually nice for once and be unescorted." He put his hand on Misao's head, as the woman blushed and splattered. "And you can't come. But don't worry; Hijikata will keep you company. Said he'd be here in ten," he told Tokio in the end and closed the door behind him.

The most amazing thing happened when Hijikata came in the apartment and Misao lay her eyes on him: she stood perfectly still for the first time since they met her and simply stared at him, slightly agape. At first, Tokio thought it was because of his highly above average good looks and his age – at least thirty – but then she spoke the most unexpected thing ever:

"You look just like Aoshi-sama…but older."

He chuckled without ever smiling though, "I assure you, I never fathered a child." She didn't seem to buy it though so he considered. "How old is Aoshi?"

"Eighteen."

"Ah, then it would be _impossible_ for me to be his father."

Tokio scolded the older man for his lack of propriety – even if Misao didn't seem to understand his joke, something he used as his defence – but then immediately thanked him for coming on such a short notice. But pleaded him not to make too many jokes like that if possible, please.

He conceded easily and bid them goodbye, wishing them a fun evening.

The moment they stepped out of the apartment building, a taxi pulled up in front of them. "Wh-?"

He opened the door for her; oh how nice of him. "I texted them to come pick us up. But you have to give them the address."

.

Her speech was the opening of the symposium; it had to do with modern ways pathologist could determine the cause of a disease that consisted not only by technological advancements but successful and unbiased communication between the pathologists of all subdivisions, and, of course, other fields of medicine. Common databases for the entire hospital and later on the entire city and so on so forth were mentioned briefly but it seemed she purposefully put it last on the list before she recapped because she wanted it to make an impression.

She then gave a last word and stepped away from the podium, where the middle aged man that called her to speak, called for a break so people could discuss her ideas. She received a round of applause, too and then headed to him.

"It was a good thing I remembered to write my speech days ago, or else it'd be a very embarrassing moment!" She aired herself. "How was it? Not too boring, right?"

"You were very good. Even I grasped most of the terms you used and that's impressive for a speaker about science." His first line of thought was "I'm proud of you" but decided against it; he figured it would sound presumptuous. But he was so very proud of her. She was amazing. This was the first time he watched her speak about medicine, about her field; she was so passionate and sincere, it was captivating.

She smiled. "Thank you!"

He made the right choice to escort her tonight. It was well worth the inconvenience not just to spend more time with her, but see her like this. A professional giving a speech about their field in an attempt to teach and help.

And he was just about to say some of these things but…

"You have guests," he half-whispered when he saw a bunch of too well-dressed men head towards them. They all wore almost identical tuxedos and had slicked back hair, watches and rings that cost half as much as his car. Half of them were as old as his father would have been, the others were mid-twenties to mid-thirties, all peacocks ready to impress.

He would have scoffed if he could.

"What a wonderful speech Dr Takagi; who would have thought you'd make such a great opening."

"Indeed; opening and closing speeches are the most difficult and important. But they trusted you, despite your young age; and you didn't disappoint. How amazing!"

More compliments and the like were heard from the entirety of their little party, each adding their own compliment, always tied to some insult or another—either that despite her young age and their obvious expectancy to disappoint she pulled through, or how she was too good for a young woman of her field and how she could have picked a better field but still how amazing she was…

He was itching to make a nice remark of his own to them but the problem was…they never took the time to ask his name. She tried to get a word in edgewise, but they wouldn't let her so introducing him was a futile effort. Hell, they wouldn't even let her reply to their comments, as if just talking to her in a good way was all she would ever need and her gratitude was granted. He would have liked to give them a piece of his mind.

But Saito was not used to being ignored. He easily was the tallest man in this room – he was measured to 187 centimetres the day he entered the academy – and one could not call his presence insignificant. He wasn't even badly dressed—in fact, he had picked one of his father's suits, the really nice one, the one he always hated because it was too proper and formal and he could never wear it anywhere. So the fact they disregarded him to that extent was a mystery to him.

"And who might you be, sir?" one of the oldest of the group finally asked him.

"Saito Hajime." It was clear they expected more, like his field of medicine or at least some title, but he didn't bother to satisfy their curiosity. She did though.

"He's my date for the evening," she explained, pink flushing a deeper scarlet.

"Oh so you're together! And here I thought you came alone; I'm very pleased you took our advice and managed to bring someone with you."

"And what is it that you do, sir?" another asked.

"I'm a police officer with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department."

"I see; do you write many tickets, sir?" one of them joked and the rest laughed.

He felt his eye twitch. Okay, now he was starting to get really annoyed. "Oh no, not at all; I'm in CIS."

"And what does that mean again?"

But the youngest one snapped his fingers, to answer his friend's question. "Oh! You're a detective."

One of the older ones looked at him in a new light. "Indeed? That would explain…you." As if that held some deeper meaning for the men, they all nodded. "Have you ever fired a weapon?"

" _A_ weapon? I am not allowed to carry _a weapon_ ; we have our standard issued handguns though."

The oldest one waved him off, as if it was a bother to be corrected on such a trifle matter. "That; have you?"

"…no," was all he said, stealing a glance with Tokio who tried not to smile. But his answer seemed to dissatisfy his audience for they pursed their lips, like they tasted something sour.

"Any ongoing cases?"

"None that I can discuss for obvious reasons…but I get my fair share of murders." The six men tried their hardest not to look too shocked he'd just said that. "You know, rich people dropping dead, doctors getting killed by grieving family members; gangbangers, too I guess."

They had to pretend _not_ to be scared then and laughed it off, bidding their goodbyes at the same time. If you asked him, it was still a minute too late; God they were insufferable! Then, once they were out of earshot, he heard her giggle and his sole worry – she might be upset he talked to her colleagues like that – was immediately dispelled. "But of course, all murders in Tokyo are of rich doctors being killed by grieving family."

"I couldn't help myself."

"Didn't have to; that was hilarious. I've never seem that man turn white before. I quite enjoyed it."

They shared a quiet moment of appreciation. "So, fess up; what the hell is up with Misao-chan's family?"

"As you must have already figured out, they are mobsters." She nodded yes. "There are three type of mobsters, as we say: those we have to get rid of, those we stir in the direction of the other to let them do the dirty work for us and those we don't really mind so we don't touch. Her family, the Oni, were the third category; their allies, the Karasu, the second; and their rivalling family, the Akainu, the first.

Six years ago, the Makimachi couple, head of the Oni family, was found murdered in their home. Despite being mobsters, they were very peaceful, managed to sort things out with money and reason thus hated by those who used force. And yet, the first person to be considered was their rescue, then twelve-year-old Shinomori Aoshi, who was charged immediately. They said Okina brainwashed the young orphan into doing it, so he could get the first seat. But later, seeing both people's grief over these two's passing as well as the lack of physical evidence, the charges were dropped.

At the time, the lead detective, whose name I cannot reveal, was pretty determined the murders were committed by a certain man of the Akainu family, in order to make Okina succeed them and turn the entire family to a bloodier path. But I was always of the opinion their allies were the ones who did them in. They tried to weaken them by bringing Okina to the table, since they thought the old man had long passed his glory days…turned out the old man was as cunning and merciless as always and instead of stepping out of the Oni's shadows, the Karasu became more like a branch family, their survival depending solely on the Oni."

"This Okina person…was he famous before he took the reins of the Oni after Misao-chan's parents' murder?"

"He used to be the right hand man of the previous head, Kananomori Shotou, dubbed the Oni between the Oni; well, Shotou was stern but Okina was the true demon—cruel and unforgiving as he was, he never accepted betrayal and made an example out of those who dared to hurt the family's family. It's thanks to him the Oni are what they are today, at least they owe him a big part of it."

"He sounds…horrifying."

He snorted. "He is; I've read some of the crimes he committed and we never could pin on him – of course – and it's enough to curdle anyone's blood." She shivered. "But he's getting on in days and wanted to retire, probably to focus on raising the girl; evidence of that is he gave his position to Aoshi very easily and the moment he turned eighteen. Of course that could only point to the boy's skill, too. I doubt he'd let the family he worked so hard to bring to such a high standard decline because he was tired."

He shrugged. "No matter what, I believe if we find the one who kidnapped Misao we'll easily find the killer of her parents, too. I asked a friend to do some digging and if what he brings back is what I think, I can go on with my plan."

She was still coming to terms with everything, mulling over his words. "I see…that all sounds so dangerous…! So what about Misao-chan?"

"What about her?"

"Will we just let her-?"

"No; don't go down that path. She's being well-taken care of by that old man. If we bring in the social services this whole thing will blow up in our face. She's not been mistreated and she clearly admires them. Plus, Okina seems retired. If we try to intervene, we'll wake the sleeping dragon—he'll fight tooth and nail to keep her. Misao will never accept it, too."

But…they were criminals. He must have read her mind then because he sighed. "We need to pick our battles wisely. Okina is a man who has only been arrested once and served about a year; and Aoshi has just stepped into his position. He must definitely have a soft spot the girl that according to her, he took care of for six years. They are a quiet bunch; no need to give them reason to go wild. We have far more dangerous families to take care of."

And if they ever let him move on to the PSB he'd have nation-wide threats to deal with, not these small scale scuffles.

But for some reason he watched her widen her eyes in shock and stare dumbfounded. She stayed that way for a while that he couldn't ignore it anymore. "What?"

"PSB? You mean…you are aiming for the counter-terrorism unit!?"

Oh shit, he'd said it out loud. "…yes."

His tone was guarded; she fixed her face into something more neutral and swallowed the first words that came to her lips. She took a deep breath. "That's…extremely dangerous, isn't it?"

"…yes."

He was less defensive now, good. "Dealing with terrorists and the borders and disaster response…"

"Tokio, I know the Bureau I want to join, why are you asking me the obvious?"

"I'm just trying to make sure that _I_ know what it is…and that you plan on joining the most life-risking agency in Japan, obviously!"

"Well yes then, it's all that."

She gawked; then, looking around to see if anyone was listening, she moved closer. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because…it's dangerous!"

"Everything is dangerous."

"This is _too_ dangerous."

He chuckled. "I don't plan on dying anytime soon; I worked my ass off to renovate that apartment to my liking."

This must have been the first time she ever heard him make this sort of talk; intrigued, she did all in her power not to let the subject drop. "It wasn't yours to begin with?"

"We lived there with my parents; I went off to police academy, they were killed some time later. Their deaths was the first major case I solved."

"Oh. I'm so sorry. What happened to them?"

"Robbery gone wrong. Never mind that, let's not go to sad topics. Music's playing, wanna dance?"

"You'd rather dance than share some of your life with me; interesting."

He tried not to smirk. "Well, I did come here as your date and all I've done is stand next to you. Feels wrong."

"Fine, let's." she took his hand and they moved to the circular empty space that was surrounded by the tables and the podium. It was a slow, relaxed song and they had no trouble falling into step. She did have trouble with how casually he put his hand on her back and how natural it felt, though. "But how typical of my choice in company, especially in men, at least lately." He gave her a quizzical look. "When I say lately, I mean the last three years—my definition of lately is…broad."

He chuckled. "Good, because I was just about to say, I haven't seen a man coming or going from your apartment. Ever." Which was a good thing and why he harboured some hope for something happening between them; if she was unattached, it was easier.

"Are you calling me a spinster!?" the audacity _; the offense_! "It's not like I ever saw a woman over at your place, too mister."

His good humour seemed to diminish as a sombre look replaced his amused one. He seemed to be battling with himself on whether to reveal the information to her or not. On the other hand, she kept looking at him, very open about whatever it was he wanted to say, assuring there would be no judgement. He spun her once and caught her again perfectly.

"…I…" he sighed as he took a step closer, maybe closer than what was acceptable. She didn't mind. "There was this woman, Yaso. She was very…charismatic. She could talk with all sorts of people, fit in in any kind of environment; beautiful but accessible. Smart, too. She used to come by the academy for a while, no one knew why, _no one cared_." He wasn't looking at her, purposefully avoiding her eyes. "And I used to watch her; I remember telling myself she was way too deliberate to be this naturally attractive but…regardless, somehow it worked on me."

She couldn't help the small knowing smile that graced her lips; if he could see it, he'd translate it to a tired "men" exclamation. "I was fresh out of the academy, when she started flirting with me; I'd just lost my parents so I was…"

"Vulnerable." She supplied the word he seemed to be searching for.

He gave a self-depreciating smile. "Yes. I think she was trying to make me ask her out but I wouldn't get it-or didn't want to get it. So after about two months she gave up and asked me herself." She chuckled. "We started dating…it was nice. She was flashy but had this very honest quality about her, very true. And she was interesting. Anyway, time passed, things happened with work, and I was sure she'd be aggravated, or at least annoyed. But no, she was always…perfect. At least, what teenage boys think of a perfect woman: never said no, never argued or made a big deal…so much so, that I started thinking does she even care?"

He shrugged. "But she did; or at least it seemed that way. She was very convincing about it when I voiced my concerns. She did all I asked her, did me favours, asked me about work and the like, but I still had this idea it was too perfect. We didn't live together at any point of our relationship though, so we didn't have as much time as I wanted to spend together. And that also allowed for many things I'd have normally noticed in a week—a month tops, if I were too absent."

Oh no; there it was. The big one was coming. "We were together for two years till I finally realised: Yaso had a habit."

That's when he looked at her; and he was right to do so, because apparently Tokio expected to hear what sort of habit could be such a deal br—…ooh, she had "a drug habit." He nodded affirmatively, very slowly. Her face reflected the emotions her heart pumped out, empathy and sorrow.

"I grew suspicious when I saw her talking to a man I'd never seen before, whom she was slightly scared of – so that took cheating on me off the table –, and he had the bearing of a criminal. I was out on patrol that day. I asked the officer with me if he knew the guy and he casually said he was a well-known small time drug dealer."

She bit her lip painfully. "I checked, too and he was right. So once the shift is over, I go over to her place and lo and behold, Yaso locks herself up in her bathroom. After screaming for the first time and telling me I was not supposed to be there and we hadn't arranged anything, she started crying, claiming she was too ill and she didn't want me to catch it and whatnot. I was…not having it. I let her hide in her bathroom but never left; and the next day, miraculously, she was fine. But she was also greedy; she left to grab breakfast to make it up to me and the first thing I did was search her bath. Sure enough, I found cocaine."

"Oh no."

"Fourteen grams; not enough to charge for distribution but surely too much for a casual user. She was either hoarding or a regular user and took the dose of the week. My mind went to the second option immediately." He sighed. "I had never been angrier my entire life. I made her tell me everything…and what I heard was pretty much what I was expecting. She zeroed in on me because I was a police officer, I was young and appeared gullible, what with losing my parents and all and hoped I'd get too attached to her to arrest her if I ever found out. Besides, who would suspect a police officer's girlfriend right?"

"Oh god…I'm so sorry."

"No, no, that's not all." His lip tugged upward. "I didn't arrest her of course, I loved her; but I had her sign into rehab immediately, the very same day. Anyway, next thing I did was go back to my house and check for any leftover drugs and of course there were; I concentrated everything and I could kick myself for being such an idiot. Because why would she leave drugs hidden in my house? That's too suspicious. And an hour later somehow, police officers storm my house, looking for drugs.

Because someone tipped them off I was _dealing_." She gawked for the second time. "Oh, you caught on; yes, her being taken away was the signal to call, a worst case scenario. Anyway, I put two and two together and told my fellow officers what was going on and I was willing to cooperate with them to find the one behind everything. They arrested me and took me to jail; I asked her to visit me. She did. She told me everything, crying, saying she regretted everything. She blurted out a couple of names; I gave them to the officers while I did my own reckon in prison. After a couple of weeks we caught the guys, she admitted everything to court and I was made undercover."

"…I'm so, _so_ sorry."

His shrug said _it's okay_ "I took out a small crime syndicate and advanced in my career…"

"Did you…ever hear from her again?"

"For a while. I helped her get clean, introduced her to a great sponsor and successfully put her on a better path. But after that, no; I exhausted all the reserves of my patience with her. It's been two years since then. She did try to contact me again, but I made sure to let her know I was not to be messed with."

"…that's impressive, Saito. I wouldn't have showed that much kindness, no matter the outcome. I mean, she did all that—how did she even look at you after that? And did she ever tell you why she did it? Sounded like someone had it out for you and used her."

"I've had glowing reviews at the academy and one of my teachers there introduced me to certain people high up the rank. Some people thought that was bad for them and tried to take me down when they could."

"Is that why she was coming to the academy? To learn these things?"

He smiled at her. "You really are sharp." He chuckled at her pride face. "Yes it was; they made her, apparently, used her habit against her. Said they were threatening to cut her off or worse if she didn't do as they asked…and I was just too dumb to see it."

"No; you were in love." She smiled. "That's nothing to be ashamed of; you still found everything out, did your job and helped another person…" She tilted her head to the side. "But I don't worry; a man like you won't end badly."

A man like him? She thought highly of him; he liked that. "Why thank you."

"They are grooming you, aren't they?" she asked after a beat. "Introducing you to people, making you an undercover cop, giving you difficult cases right of the bat…they want to make something out of you. Your aspirations for PSB aren't unfounded." He smirked. "Definitely misplaced aspirations if you ask me, completely dangerous and unneeded—you could always become a Commissioner or a Senior Commissioner…but founded in reason."

"A commissioner? That's boring."

" _Boring?_ Well sorry for thinking one person aiming for one of the highest positions in the police force is boring."

"Opposed to counter-terrorism it is…"

"What is it with you and the adrenaline rush? You've been like this since I've met you."

The conversation was much more interesting than the dancing so they simultaneously made the decision to step to the side and keep their lips rather than their feet working.

"You keep referring to the day you met me but it wasn't like you were any less reckless."

"Need I remind you-?"

"No, you don't; I get it. So now that my sad story is covered, what's your excuse?"

"Ah, damn; you didn't forget to ask." She exhaled. "Well, I was about to finish university and this guy, a little older than me, maybe five years, came into the picture. He too was studying only he'd just started. Not medicine though, but applied science. He'd taken a lot of time off for personal, familial reasons he'd said at first and then explained how he was taking care of his mom. And he was very charming, attractive, and eloquent…I fell like a ripe fruit. We started dating and it was great. We had a normal relationship, in general. He was kind and nice but sometimes a little distant; others he was too close. He just had this thing he didn't want me going to his classes, at all. But all in all, nothing out of the ordinary."

She swallowed. "Until…I saw him with this woman at applied science. I had already graduated so why would I be there right? But I was close by so I dropped in unexpected…and I saw him kissing a woman a couple of years older than me. And to add salt to injury…she was pregnant!"

He looked the picture perfect definition of stunned. "Oh yes; I was dating a married man whose wife was also pregnant for almost two years!"

"Ouch."

"Oh but I was as smart as I was hurt; I waited till he was gone from her side to get his car and went to talk to her, pretended I was interested in her field. So she started talking to me about it, so excited and gushed about how much she loved it. But isn't it difficult, I asked? Oh yes, but my husband is such great support that I can't ask for more; drives me here, waits and picks me up every day of class. He is so amazing. And I asked then: how long have you been married? Four years, she'd said; high school sweet hearts. And I died inside."

She knew he was understanding her pain; his was actually dangerous, too. "I couldn't tell her the truth though, despite my heart being broken. I did give her hints though, later. And then I found out not only was I the other woman and didn't know it…I wasn't even the only other woman. There were many."

"Delightful."

"Yes; so I found them all, invited them to the hospital to talk about it…and we decided to threaten him. If he cheated on his wife again, we'd all send all of our photographs to her and her lawyer so she could sue him for all he's worth, plus child custody—he was loaded by the way. But he never really said it, too; I sort of guessed." She shrugged, too imitating him from before. "So that's my excuse. And it happened just as I was moving, too. Good thing; gave me the chance to focus on my work."

"Huh."

There was a moment of silence; she looked at him amused. "I guess we both pretty much suck in relationships." He silently agreed. "But hey, at least I wasn't imprisoned for it."

He couldn't believe she was being competitive about this; he shook his head, a smile threatening to appear. "…at least I never had to threaten anyone."

"Touché."

He decided to change the topic. "When does this symposium end?"

"Hmmm, takes some time; and it's going on for a couple of days, but I don't **have** to come tomorrow and in fact I won't."

"How come?"

"I was supposed to be knee-deep in work but now I'm supposed to be with Misao-chan; can't up and leave all the time, can I? I made a commitment."

"…yeah. Thanks." Silence. "But when do we _leave_?"

* * *

 **A/N**

CIS: Criminal Investigation Section  
PSB: Public Security Bureau

Only police officers in CIS can handle murders and the like; and PBS is basically what Tokio said. And the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department(TMPD) is the only one that has a PSB, as it normally connects with the Japanese National Police Agency(JNPA). But due to the fact the JNPA and TMPD operate in the same place and has been working with them for the longest of times, TMPD has the right to have a PSB unit.

And that's that! Oh my god I have a scene in mind I love it, can't wait to write it. Hope you liked it; please leave a review on your way out.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** : Update! Because why not? I wanna finish this soon, it has to be completed so have at it!

* * *

They reached home around midnight; as she was one of the speakers, how much more since she was the one who opened the symposium, she had to be there for the closing. That happened around quarter past eleven; in ten minutes time, they were in the taxi he called again, driving back. It was a silent but not awkward ride; each deep into their own thoughts, mulling over the information they were given. She felt somewhat relieved; if even a man like him could be deceived by a lover, she needn't feel so stupid anymore. She had never allowed herself to grieve over the loss of this man she knew for so long because he played her and she never really blamed herself for it but…she did feel like an idiot.

So the bitterness was there, even after so long. But he helped; she hoped she had a similar effect on him.

When they arrived, they were greeted by Senior Chief Hijikata who looked at the pair of them with a serious but relaxed expression on his face.

"Welcome back; how was your date?"

"Interesting!" Tokio replied before he had the chance. "I gave that speech and then some people gave us a hard time, but then it was alright; we danced; we talked; we had fun."

"…I'm glad." She seemed to be looking for something, missing the meaningful glance Hijikata sent his officer; but neither man missed her searching eyes. "Can I help you?"

"Misao-chan is nowhere to be seen…so I'm guessing you put her to sleep?"

"Indeed; she mostly stared at me but we talked a little bit. I didn't tell her I knew about her predicament and she acted as if she was a relative staying over so I didn't press." A small pause. "But she is quite energetic and she did make a mess of things, forgive me Saito; I hadn't had the time to-"

"Oh goodness no! That is our responsibility. Just being here with her when we couldn't is more than enough. Thank you again."

She bowed and he bowed back. "You're very welcome." He waited till she was gone behind the bedroom door - no doubt to check on the girl - and turned to Saito, mildly amused. "I see you're close; is it serious?"

Saito's head snapped at him. "What is?"

"You two, the relationship; is it serious?"

He sighed. "…we aren't dating; this was a formal event, she needed someone to take her. That's all."

His eyebrows rose teasingly. "I thought she said your date was fun."

"She did; it was one date. We're not-"

"Doesn't it always start with one date?" That took Saito by complete and utter surprise. "So I'm asking you again. Is it serious?"

"…no; yes. Eh, it's complicated. I don't think she took it as an actual date so even if I was looking for something serious I don't think she fully understands my intentions."

Hijikata succeeded in not smiling at his subordinate. "Then explain them to her." That answer rendered the younger man speechless. "She's a smart woman; she'll catch on." In a very uncharacteristic way, Saito's cheeks turned a little red. "Besides, Misao told me you two were sleeping together on the couch."

That's when he hid his face in his hand. "I'm not so shameless," he murmured "I didn't—…I don't even know how she ended up there."

"So she came herself?" His look was of surprise, a pleasant one. "There you have it then. She can't be all that clueless."

"Hijikata, you know—"

"I do." He put a hand on his shoulder and his face was expressionless.

Hijikata had been very pissed at himself, Saito and Yaso when he found out the truth. He was the one who had urged him to get himself out there after his parents' deaths; he told him to allow himself to heal and have someone to coddle him at the same time. And being a workaholic didn't do all that much for Hijikata himself so he had no reason to give such advice to others. Thus, he advised him to live it up a little…and he ended up like that.

Okay, he experienced a nice couple of years; okay, she might have loved him, too at some point. But what kind of consolation was that when all his friend had lived and believed was basically a lie? And if not all then at least a big part. Hijikata had felt so, so upset with Saito, too for not seeing the truth; and hell, he was ready to charge Yaso at a moment's notice if he found out anything more or saw any attempts from her to seduce Saito again…

And sixteen months later, he hears from Okita, that chatterbox district attorney that Saito was in love with his neighbour; sensible woman, a doctor, too. Caring, kind and very smart; fun to be around, too. But the thing was Yaso had charmed them all, too. Okita not included, truth be told, but Hijikata was; and if he could be fooled, the young district attorney could, too. They **were** nine years younger than him, after all.

So Saito being in love wasn't always a good thing; and Okita's opinion alone could not be trusted. Thus he wanted to meet her personally and if both agreed, only then could she be approved. The thing was, Saito was apparently too traumatised to even ask Tokio out. So when the precinct had some celebration or another he would always come alone. But this…not only would this favour help Saito's career, but he could actually meet this mysterious, much-talked-about neighbour. And meet her he did. And his verdict…?

"I like her." Just as he was removing his hand, she walked out of the room and looked at them. "She yelled at me." he said, purposefully looking at her.

Saito smirked. "Me, too."

She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "What…? I haven't yelled at you for a long time; and you I yelled at because you were making inappropriate jokes." She was not amused. "How long has she been sleeping?"

"Since eleven give or take…"

"Did she eat or drink anything I should know while we were out?"

"…nothing out of the ordinary; she ate some riceballs Saito had-."

"Ugh, those things." She shook her head. "Okay I get it; she'll wake up hungry because she didn't have any real food. I don't blame you, Hijikata-san," she rushed to clarify "I'm just sorry I didn't get to cook something quick before I left. But I'd just completely forgotten about the symposium."

"And since Tokio doesn't think riceballs are a proper meal…"

She crossed her arms. "Can you blame me?"

"Okita agrees with me though."

"He lives on his own and he's twenty six, of course he does."

He smirked. "And I don't?"

She changed ten colours! "I—you…I mean I live next door to you! You have the better example next to you! And I do bring food over occasionally so…"

He chuckled, making her anxiety calm but Hijikata was simply watching everything like a hawk. And then she realised…she hadn't seen him smile at all, even in the presence of a person he considered a friend. That was odd. "Hijikata-san, you have such a serious face."

"It's the one I was born with."

"That's his nice face, too."

"No…!" He simply nodded; she put her fist under her nose. "I bet I can make you smile."

Saito scoffed. "Give it up, you can't; better men than you have tried and failed."

"But I like a challenge; and I'm kind of a woman, so there's that."

Saito rolled his eyes. "Many men lost fortunes or evenings that way; I am certain that's how he managed to come at such a short notice today, too."

"Pffff, doesn't scare me."

"…interesting," Hijikata said then and Saito gave up. "What are we betting?"

"I warned you."

"How about bragging rights to Okita?"

He almost smiled right there; this woman really knew her neighbour's friends. "Alright."

She smiled too wide. "So, Hijikata-san, did you know we don't have washing machines in the apartment building as a whole but go to the laundromat down the road? Saito visits them religiously: every Tuesday or Thursday every week he's there, clothes sorted into neat piles. Now I do have a washing machine, but I must be the only one. Anyway," that's when Saito put his hand on his eyes and started rubbing "one such Tuesday, Saito goes to the laundromat to put his clothes in the one of the two machines he always uses…only to see it was broken! In fact, _both_ of them were broken! So what does he do…? Turns around and walks away."

Saito was now pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head; she pressed on unhindered.

"And I see him coming back ten minutes later, way too soon, clothes still unwashed, walking up to his apartment. He opened the door and slammed it behind him; I followed after him, knocking on the door. _What_ he says, and I can see he's pissed; _I can lend you my washing machine_ , I say; he simply scoffed at me; and what do I see behind him? He had actually brought out a basin, full with water, soap frothing already. And then he turns around, takes a shirt out of the pile and starts scrubbing away!"

Saito fighting to hold back all the things he wanted to say, embarrassment taking the better of him; and his reaction, combined with Tokio's enthusiasm was so hard not to smile at…but he managed it.

But then she said: "And what do you think he did then? Looked at me like I was wasting his time for standing there and asked me, all airs, in a very demanding tone: _are you helping or what_?"

Just the image of Saito washing his clothes so traditionally, bent over the basin, no; okay, fine. He lost.

Tokio laughed a riot! Saito just glared at the man. When her laugh died down, he finally spoke. " _That_ got you to lose? Really?"

"It's a fun story…"

She snorted. "For you maybe; he made me wash more than half his clothes."

"We did it together."

"Yes but you only half-knew what to do it so you took an eternity." His disapproving glare landed on her and she again wanted to laugh, only this once she reigned it in and merely hiccuped. "Anyway, we don't mean to keep you anymore Hijikata-san; this is late as is. Thank you again. And Saito has to wake up too early tomorrow again, so he'd better go to sleep. Yes?"

He was ready to say no but her staring intensified; he decided to go with her flow. "…I guess."

"Indeed; I shall be going." A mutual bow was exchanged between the two people again; Saito simply nodded in return. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The door was closed and she turned to him. "He was surprisingly ok. I liked him!" Had he been in a better mood he'd have told her he liked her, too but she did just tell his superior this embarrassing story… "Want me to fetch your pyjamas from the room?"

"Sure."

She came back five minutes later, herself changed into her usual house clothes; she was also carrying the bedsheet from before and the blanket; Hijikata had actually folded them and put them in the closet, how nice of him.

"Here is everything!"

She offered the pyjamas and then went to put the bedsheet on the large cushions of the couch. "I know you have to go to sleep _now_ but I can't sleep yet. And I don't wanna wake Misao-chan by walking in and out all the time and turning the lights on…" she said while getting his makeshift bed ready, not looking at him. "So I was thinking, if you minded, well actually if you didn't mind then I could…um, if you maybe want me to stay here?"

She was looking everywhere but where he was standing, feeling heat rise to her face. She couldn't believe she was actually asking him this. It was daring and inappropriate and he would call her out on it! Oh no, was she coming off as promiscuous? That's the last thing she wanted.

She straightened and nearly crushed into him! How did he do that? He was over there a second ago; and how could he make no sound when he walked? Her heart couldn't take such things. She never looked up at him though "I mean, I won't bother you, I promise; I just thought…" She saw his chest come one step closer and then hands cross it. "I didn't mean to disturb you this evening, I sort of tripped that's all…"

"Oh is that why you were there." He said it in the tone of I was mildly curious about this when in fact he was dying to know what the hell had happened.

She averted her eyes completely now, grabbing her own arm and squeezing. "Yeah, I, uh, tried to cover you with the blanket you see, but I, uh, tripped and fell on you. But you didn't wake up, thank _god_." She stole a glance at him but didn't see his face too well; still, she was too nervous to look again.

What he must have thought about her! It was mortifying. "But when I tried to stand you were already comfortable and I _really_ didn't wanna wake you so…I stayed there…hope you didn't, um, mind…"

He felt he saw her for the first time. Shy and Tokio never went together in his head but there it was: she was shy and hesitant and embarrassed and a blushing mess. That was the first time in his life he felt he might actually have a real fighting chance. Maybe she even felt the same. Heh, even like this, she was still making him count his breaths before speaking.

"Idiot," was all he replied with.

When she finally looked up at him properly, too curious by his silence, there was his trademark smirk, eyes shining with mischief…and something else, she couldn't quite determine. But somehow, it drew her in and she couldn't look away. Ah damn, why couldn't she look away? She felt she was being drawn to him…! But then he looked away and the moment passed. His smirk though never faded.

Wait, what did that even mean? Was it a yes? "You wanna read a book or something? I do have plenty of books in the other room."

It was a yes; her smile reached her ears. "Okay! I'll go pick one. You mind the lights on?"

He nodded no. "If I'm tired, I'll sleep right away." he took the clothes he'd left on the armchair, and went to the bathroom. When he came out, she was already sitting on the big couch, the one he was supposed to sleep in, legs stretched out as far as they could go. They only took up a third of the couch, but still, how daring. He smirked at the sight of her regardless.

"At least leave some room for me."

Okay; this went much better than expected. Maybe Hijikata was right, it's time for a talk. Well, after the issue with the girl was resolved and he had successfully solved his case.

"Oh please! You have all this couch left." She was reading Dazai, he noticed; good choice even if a little bleak. "Oh really? This is—nooo, Saito. No! Now you're just being ridiculous."

He took her blanket off and before she knew it, he was grabbing her feet. She wiggled. "Saito, you don't have to—jeez, I get it, don't…oh." He managed to put her feet down and sat only a metre away from her; and then did the last thing she expected: put his head in her lap. She kind of froze then.

"Read to me doctor."

"Bu, I, what?"

"Read to me; helps me sleep. That or you can play with my hair; both work."

Where was this coming from? He was so audacious! She could just shove him off at any moment…! Yet she didn't; she really didn't want to, not when feeling thos weight on her thighs felt so nice. She blushed but decided to call his bluff. "I hate reading aloud; I can never do the different voices."

He never expected her to run her fingers through his hair, ever. But there she was and there he was and oh god that felt so good. Was she really going through with this? He was only joking about the second part but he didn't mind at all this was happening. And just as he was savouring the feeling of a light massage on his head, by her no less, he was fast asleep.

.

"I'm not a kid; I can make my own breakfast."

"You always eat those riceballs, that's not real food."

"Really, it's too early, go back to sleep."

"It's fine."

It wasn't; she could barely open her eyes. She ran into at least two open cupboards that she herself opened and didn't remember because she was so sleepy, but still she didn't admit she was tired. He told her to stay where she was, urged her to lie back down, nothing; she was determined to make him breakfast at five in the morning.

"You don't have to do this."

"I know," she said through a huge yawn. "I want to."

"I'll be gone in ten minutes, you don't even have enough time to-"

"I made the batter yesterday, for an evening homemade snack, you know, the usual."

He didn't know; last time he had a homemade snack the way she implied it, it must have been ten years ago.

She stretched as she walked to the fridge and took out a large Tupper. It was full to the brim. "Good thing I did, too."

She replaced him in front of the stove and took the frying pan he was trying to use in her hands; she cut a small piece from the butter stick and threw it in. He watched as she patiently waited for the butter to melt and in the meantime took a ladle and put in the batter; once the butter had melted she stirred the pan and with a graceful twist of the wrist, the batter was in the pan, not a single drop spilling, cooking itself into a round beautiful shape. Once it was done on one side, she flipped it over by jolting the pan.

The first one was out in a minute; the second followed even faster. The third one was the last one. "What do you want them with?" She opened the fridge. "Hm…you don't have much to fill them with. Ugh, remind me to go grocery-shopping later."

"…make them savoury; I like everything that's in the fridge."

"Alright."

Her subdued words and half-lidded eyes never went away, but he didn't mind; if anything he appreciated all the more for doing this, despite her obvious need for sleep. He sat in his usual chair and waited for the plate to come; once it did, along with a cup of coffee – how thoughtful – he ate in silence and her sitting next to him.

"What time will you be back from work?" she asked only after he'd eaten.

"Earlier than yesterday. Have less things to do, though I have to look into some things about the girl." She nodded and he could see her mind making her schedule of the day and it was adorable. "Just go back to sleep; it's still too early."

"Hmm, was planning to." She yawned. "Have a nice shift."

"Thanks; have a nice day."

.

When he returned, the first thing he did was to salute his two guests; next thing he did wasn't to take off his shoes, though, but sniff the air. Something smelt incredible and he hadn't realised just how hungry he was until that very moment; three cups of coffee and a breakfast so many hours ago had been all but useless.

Just then, Tokio came into his field of vision, approaching with a bright smile and an apron. "Welcome back; go wash up, lunch is about to be served."

"Welcome back~" _no flying kicks today_ , he noted with relief, but she was still a little ball of energy, came in the room running and bounced on the ball of her feet "how are you? Did you have a good time? Did you see Hijikata-san?"

"…work is work; and yes."

"So-so then? How is Hijikata-san?"

"He looked well" he managed to say with a straight face; just the thought of telling Hijikata that the eight year old was in love with him was so amusing. But then he remembered: "Okita will be coming over today."

"That's nice."

Misao turned to Tokio. "Who's Okita?"

"The only other person to be with us when we found you, a friend; you'll love him, I'm sure."

"Oh!" She smiled. "You have a lot of friends." Saito and Tokio laughed at the same time; Misao was confused. "What?"

How could they explain that two individuals were too few to be called friends and in fact these were the only two people he ever befriended on his own? It was even an inside joke with them, how both of them socialised poorly, especially Saito. "Nothing honey; go wash up before Saito and once you're both ready, lunch is served, come on."

She urged both towards the hall and went back to her food.

.

Saito had found out all he could about the ongoing relationships between the families, the people the lead detective then and he himself had suspected while he made a point to look a little further into the name Shinomori Aoshi; once the girl described her assailants, too he'd have all he needed to form a theory. On the other hand, Tokio had called her sister Aki and asked to bring over the ingredients for curry noodles with chicken and something for Misao to change into, seeing Aki's daughter was already six, and Misao too thin. Then she promised the girl to go shopping for clothes in the afternoon, after Saito returned.

Which she did; she went to the same store she shopped for her niece and found some cute outfits! Of course she had to remind herself the girl was going to leave soon so there was no use buying ten of the same; that was acceptable only for the underwear. She would need new shoes, too…And then she did the next thing she had on her list: grocery shopping. Surely, Aki brought more than the ingredients for the curry, but not much more - she had no idea about Misao anyway, since Tokio told her the clothes were for a patient at the hospital - and Saito was in dire need of a diet lift. She didn't care what anyone said, a man in his twenties with such a demanding job should not live off of riceballs alone.

And then she had the child to think of, too.

"Tokio-chan! You're finally back!"

"Okita-kun!" She smiled widely. "Welcome! I had hoped to get back before you arrived, but no matter. Misao-chan, hello; go try on some of the clothes I brought!" She extended two bags towards her. "They are all for you."

The girl's eyes shone with delight and grabbed them out of her hands as she ran straight into the bedroom. "You know the way to a girl's heart, Tokio-chan," he remarked devilishly.

"Help her with the bags first, talk later...idiot."

Saito set the example as he extracted all of the remaining shopping bags from Tokio's hands. But Okita ignored him. "Heard you know the way to a man's heart, too Tokio-chan!" He winked. "Ate some of what you made and it was delicious!"

"Oh you," she hit him lightly on the arm "always exaggerating. Those were only leftovers after all; but there's crepe batter left, would you like me to make some, Okita-kun? Saito?"

Okita pumped his fist! "Yes; I'll eat something from you while it's still hot."

She laughed at his enthusiasm but missed Saito's frown. Well, she didn't miss his tone as he bit out "you don't have to cook, especially for him."

"Hey, back off; you're lucky and get to eat her food whenever you feel like it." He leaned in, as if to hell her a secret. "Had I known this was part of the deal, I'd have kept Misao-chan at _my_ house."

She laughed heartily again. "Oh so now riceballs aren't all that, huh?"

"Well…they aren't bad."

She shook her head, rolling both her eyes and her sleeves. "You're hopeless."

.

.

"Can I sleep here with you tonight…?"

Tokio was still half asleep, but realised what the girl was trying to say: for some reason, she got scared and needed company. So she easily allowed her on the couch. "Sure, sure…come."

It'd been three nights Misao has been sleeping soundly in Saito's bedroom alone; she said she didn't have a problem because she was a big girl now and she'd been sleeping alone back home anyway. Yes, much like them, Okina was in the next room, but she was sleeping on her own, lights off and everything. So there were no problems…till this night. Maybe she had a really bad nightmare.

Instead of making room for her, Tokio simply opened her arms; Misao took the invitation and jumped in the offered hug like her life depended on it. it jolted both adults who were routinely sleeping one next to the other, well, after was more accurate, on the same piece of furniture. Saito stirred and looked over his shoulder, only to see Misao rub her face on Tokio's chest and Tokio petting her head affectionately.

Was he hallucinating?

But then the girl spoke, her voice almost breaking. "I was really scared…"

Alright, he wasn't hallucinating.

"Did you have a bad dream?" She nodded vividly, and now she practically hid in the woman's arms. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I…saw someone. I don't remember seeing him again, ever. He was a tall, burly man, with two scars over his left eye like this" she ran two fingers from her eyebrow to the side of the nose diagonally "as if they were claw marks. But he had flames for hair, long bright flames. His face was very scary, too—and he started coming towards me with a hook and his hair burning everything they touched! We were in a room, filled with trees, flowers and grass so everything caught on fire and circled me; I had nowhere to run, so I backed into the only safe wall while he kept coming closer…! But just before he reached me, I woke up."

Saito had sat up now, staring at the girl with an expressionless face, but his eyes spoke volumes to Tokio: he had just gotten over a mild shock and was thinking what to do next. He noticed her studying his face and they exchanged a knowing look.

"That was so scary, Misao-chan! I'm glad you came to us. Do you maybe prefer we go back to the bed toge-?"

"NO!" she hid her face in Tokio's chest both out of fear and embarrassment. "Not tonight please; let's just stay…where Saito-san is."

Heh! She might have run into her arms but the girl still felt unsafe without a man's presence. But Tokio couldn't blame her; after all, it was only men she had known growing up. And she did once say Saito's silence reminded her of her guardian, so it made sense to trust him on such matters. Yet, Tokio couldn't say it didn't hurt, just a tiny little bit.

"Okay. You want us to try and sleep again? Or talk a little maybe?"

"I'll try to sleep now."

She leaned in on her and Tokio just stayed there, with this small person in her arms, relying on her. She didn't know what to think _or_ feel but decided this was a big responsibility. This was why she didn't want children yet—she couldn't be this responsible all the time. But that thought relaxed her because Misao wasn't her kid and this was ephemeral; she could be as affectionate as she wanted, she wasn't "spoiling" her. And lord knew she had been through a lot.

Two minutes hadn't passed when Misao's breathing became even and relaxed. Tokio smiled. But then she looked at Saito, who, sure enough, was still looking at her like he wanted to say something.

"Did you recognise the person she described?" she mouthed. He nodded affirmatively. She motioned "who" with a curt twist of her hand.

"Tomorrow," he whispered.

She shrugged; she couldn't quite change his opinion. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep herself and another minute had passed and she was almost snoring.

A smile formed on Saito's lips. She would make a very good wife but hey, she wouldn't be a bad mother, too. And then he freaked completely out by his brain and the paths it followed because, **no**. What was he even thinking? They weren't-even- _dating_. End of story **and** thoughts, now. He shook his head and lay back down.

Time for bed.

But when he woke up next morning and she was, per usual by now, making him breakfast, well what else could he think about? Look at her waking up so early only to make something for him to eat, see him off and then go back to sleep; and whenever he comes back, there's homemade, hot food waiting for him! He could get used to this, definitely; or should he say, he has already gotten used to this. How in earth will he ever go back to staying alone and being alone and not wanting to eat what she makes? When she'd practically be only ten metres away from him?

No, no, this wasn't fair. She was so nice and proper, yet demanding and assertive, it pissed him off how well it met his expectations of how she'd be like if married. Apron on, cooking, whacking his hand whenever he snatched something out of the plates; apron off, reading, doing her work and some chores. Work clothes on, she'd be on edge, giving orders, snapping at him if he did something she didn't like.

And much like now, she'd be wearing those ridiculous house clothes, sitting next to him as he waited to finish his food; less sleepy every day, her system getting used to the early hour and once he stood, she followed his example and gave a wide smile.

She'd salute and say "have a nice shift." much like now.

"Have a nice day," he'd reply and then, he'd bent down, casually grab her waist to bring her closer just as much as he needed and kiss her goodbye.

That was the ritual, in his head, the one he'd thought about and would think about these past few days endlessly. But then he looked down at her and realised his hand **was** around her waist; she **was** somehow standing closer than three seconds before…while her expression was a mix of surprise and confusion.

Oh no.

He fought the urge to slap his palm on his forehead and then run it down his entire face as he cringed; so he simply nodded, as poker-faced as he could, and left for work.

The moment the door closed behind him, he massaged his forehead and then pounded it lightly with his fist. _Hajime, you have to go find the guy with the scar's rap sheet, put a tail on him and find any known associates_ , his logic reminded him; _you have no time to waste on what an idiot you were. You have to help the little girl. The little girl who had been kidnapped_. Good; purpose cleared his head.

He descended the stairs in a hurry and left the house just before another thought crept up behind him: Okita would have a field day with this.

.

The landline rang; Tokio looked at her watch suspicious and indeed it was only twelve-past-something o'clock. Who could it be? She looked at the caller ID and it read "office".

Oh. It must have been Saito calling. And just like that, boom, her cheeks became red. She hadn't thought about what happened this morning ever since she woke up – which was a lie she kept telling herself as that appeared to be always there, nagging at her – so the abrupt way the scene played back in her mind's eye left her unable to speak. Or think. Or function in general.

But she picked it up with an excessive dignity about her, and pressed the green button.  
"H, he-?"

"Take Misao and lock yourselves up in the bedroom," the urgency in her voice rendered her silent for a completely different reason "but first make sure all windows are closed and secured. Pull the shutters, too. Trust no one who comes, if it's not me, Okita or Hijikata. Be very quiet if you hear anything."

"What in earth happened?"

"I missed it." What _it_ was he didn't elaborate, but the self-accusation was too much to bear, he nearly spat the words. "Now go do as I say!"

He hung up immediately, as if to show her he wasn't exaggerating when he said _now_ ; she took the hint and rushed to the windows to do as he said: first she pulled the shutters, making sure they'll stay in place and moved on to secure the windows.

Then she knocked on the door. "Misao-chan, come out" she's been having a bath for the past twenty minutes "we have to be careful now."

A wet head appeared behind the door, giving her a fright. "What is it?"

Hand on her chest, she exhaled. "Saito called; said we have to hole ourselves up in the bedroom and be very quiet."

"What? Why?"

"He didn't explain but while…looking for your family, he must have missed something and now he needs us to be very careful. Come now, hurry up."

"Okay!"

Emergency was second nature to Tokio but Misao wasn't far behind! She coordinated her movements to waste no time and in the same moment opened the door, grabbed a towel and wrapped herself with it. Tokio ushered her to the bedroom then, two books – for entertainment – and her cell phone – in case Saito called – already in hand; she put it on silent.

As they entered, she had Misao stand at the far back, away from any remaining windows, while she looked for and found the key to the bedroom – why did he hide it in his _socks_ of all places – and locked themselves inside. The windows in this room were already secured, so she didn't bother, as Saito always kept this room in the dark. She'd only opened them in the mornings to air the room and then bolted them back up.

Feeling somewhat safer than five minutes ago, she walked to the girl's side.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait for Saito."

* * *

 **A/N** : A little cliffhanger, a tiny one.

Have fun till next time peeps; love ya! Leave a review on your way out, pretties.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** : Heeeeeeeeeey! Updaaaaate. Have fun.

* * *

She looked at her watch; ten to one. She held her breath; the sound she just heard…it couldn't be Saito. He got off from work at two. So then who was it that approached the front door? He heard sounds of meddling with the doorknob; now she was sure whoever it was, wasn't a friend. Saito had keys, Okita would warn before coming, Hijikata would be more careful. This was what Saito feared.

She felt her heart stop for a moment and held Misao closer; she squeezed. Tokio prayed the girl saw it as reassurance and not fear, but it was also a sign for her to keep quiet. She momentarily let her eyes wander from the door to the girl's face and Misao was staring at her with agonising stress; slowly, she put a finger over her mouth to make even more obvious what she wanted. The girl nodded and the horrible thought that crossed Tokio's mind that moment was only one: Misao looked like she knew what she was doing, what she was supposed to so. And that only gave life to a more horrible thought: Misao had probably done this before when escaping from her captors, felt this anxiety, had fear grip her heart…only then she was alone.

No one was there to hold her like Tokio was now. She was defenceless and alone and yet, she had managed to escape. Determination and rage filled her; she would protect this child with all her strength; she would never let her feel helpless again.

The door was finally pried open; she heard the footsteps inside the house. Her skin crawled and her entire body went into a state. She knew the instinct fairly well: fight or flight. Her body was preparing her for both, yet she knew she really only had one choice: fight, till Saito got here. She'd love to try and escape but she didn't know where to go, how to keep the girl safe out in the open and, most importantly, how many more people were waiting for them outside. Only one entered the apartment, yes, but the building?

And of course, looking out of the window was out of the question.

She nudged the girl with her elbow; pointed at the large wardrobe. Misao vehemently shook her head in denial, but she simply motioned her to get up; in fact, she did it first and the girl allowed to be dragged to the place Tokio wanted, silent footfalls from both. When she stood in front of the massive wooden structure, she pointed…upwards, to the smaller, higher cupboards. Misao looked confused.

"I'll help you up there," she mouthed and opened it for her. Well, it had some good space left and the girl was so thin and flexible, she could easily fit in there. And the blankets up there could provide great cover—besides, no one really thought to check so high up. She'd be safe.

Misao saw the value of this hiding place immediately and simply jumped onto the bed. Tokio stood between the distance of the bed and the wooden wardrobe, realising exactly what the girl was going for and braced herself for the upcoming impact.

The girl looked at the distance and calculated; biting her tongue as she made the calculations, she took a stance. Next second, mouth closed, tongue in, she made the leap! Even without a running start, with her small frame and nearly weightless body, she propelled herself the way she wanted! She stepped on Tokio's shoulder only for a second, so precise and light, Tokio nearly didn't feel it. Then the woman looked up and saw she was landing inside the cupboard, blankets and whatnot cushioning her fall. She exhaled with relief; immediately she closed them back up and eavesdropped for the intruder. He was taking his time, being careful in every single step. She heard him look through kitchen drawers, cabinets, scraping chairs on the floor…

 _Stay there and don't do anything stupid please, please, please_ , she thought as if the girl could hear her telepathically; she stood directly behind the door, so if it opened, it would cover her. If he managed to pry open one door, she had no doubt in her mind he could do it again with a second one. Seeing this one was flimsier than the entrance's, it stood no chance.

She heard his footsteps approaching the room; she held her breath. But he stopped at the room next to theirs, the one that was filled with books, his study and a nice table with two chairs; she heard him walk but didn't do much. He knew nothing could be in there, nowhere to hide. So he exited that room almost immediately and then turned to their door.

She held her breath again and she felt she was going blue. He put his hand on the knob; she could count the heartbeats that thundered in her ears. He turned the knob, but it stopped. The door didn't open. She knew it wouldn't, she locked it herself, but it bore no significance. He'd just break in and now she exhaled trying to take another big breath. There was a pause; her heart beat like a drum against her chest, she could barely hear herself think. She closed her eyes, waiting for the intruder to force it open…

But it never happened. When he resumed activities, he headed to the next room. The one she knew to be the bathroom. She heard him open the door and slowly walk inside. Less than two minutes later, she heard him walk out again. And towards them. Again.

She mentally cursed; of course! Finally she realised what this man was trying to do…he checked all doors. Only one was locked, thus, only one would bear his precious cargo. Idiot! How did she not think of that? She should have locked all doors, why was she being so basic? She'd have banged her head on the wall if it didn't give away her position. What an idiot!

But she had no time to abuse herself; someone was about to do it to her for real, she had to be on guard.

Sure enough, his hand was on the knob again, fighting to make it turn. He jerked harder, as if trying to knock the thing off its hinges. No, no, that wouldn't do; her ingenious thinking in standing there would go to waste! Thankfully, he seemed to have other plans for the door, as he stopped, took something out of his pocket probably and she watched as a card appeared, peeking through the woods of the threshold and the door. Her breath caught and fought her hardest to become one with the wall.

A wayward thought appeared: she was grateful for wearing such comfortable clothes for she could kick, punch and run much easier. She put her hand in her pocket, clutching the key; for protection. It had occurred to her to look for a gun in case Saito had something left here but then again, she wouldn't know how to operate it thus probably only help the intruder to a new weapon. So she gripped the key tighter, resolve steeled, as the card seemed to do its trick; the door yielded and opened…hesitantly. It opened just another crack and she had never held her breath for so long, she was about to blow! Eyes wide shut, she prayed and prayed and prayed something happened to distract this man…!

Just as it was about to open wider, she heard it: sounds of running; she heard it at the same time as the intruder, as she saw his shadow turn to look back. Could it be Saito? They were saved! She exhaled with a gasp when she saw the mysterious figure reach for what must have been a gun, though.

It was; the sound of a gunshot that followed was unmistakable. She flinched at the same time, and covered her mouth with both hands not to scream out loud! But when she heard the grunt of pain that came right after, she felt her eyes water. Oh no; no, no, no, no; no, could it be Saito? God no.

But hold on a second; there were sounds of struggle! If he had been seriously hurt, the intruder would have just gone over to give him the finishing blow, but that wasn't the case: she watched as the unknown man's shadow fell backwards while a more than familiar figure rammed him to the wall. Another gunshot and another grunt and her heart was about to burst. She wanted to go out there and help but she feared she'd only make things worse!

The wardrobe's cupboard opening caught her eye and she turned only to see Misao ready to jump. "No," she mouthed and signalled at the same time "stay in there, stay!" she could feel the tears on her cheeks but didn't care; Misao would be safe in there, she couldn't leave her. She closed it herself, even if the girl resisted. It didn't matter, no matter the fuss they made. Outside was much worse—she heard them crush on walls, fall through a door, knocking on furniture…

Till the sounds of struggle died out; no gunshots were heard though. Could Saito have incapacitated him? She risked showing half of her head, peeking outside. She held her breath in anticipation. When the familiar lean figure of her neighbour appeared exiting the room, dragging an unconscious man, she sagged with a sigh. If she wasn't holding on to the knob she was sure she would have collapsed.

"Oh thank God, you are alright…"

He looked at her surprised. "…go back inside. And take this!" He pried a bat out of the assailant's hands – where did he carry that? – and threw it towards her.

"But you're—!"

She looked pointedly near his abdomen where two very distinctive rips were, blouse tattered and blood spilling from his flesh. He clicked his tongue and covered it with his hand for a second. "This is nothing; four more people are coming." He turned his back on her and headed for the living room. "Just stay in there."

"FOUR!? Saito, you're-!"

He looked at her over his shoulder with a smirk that wasn't there three seconds ago. "This really **is** nothing." She was taken aback. "Besides, now it's my turn."

She was left speechless, simply watched him drag the unconscious man by the foot with him into the living room. She backed away with slow steps, just as stunned as she noticed his expression. Was he…having fun? She shook her head. Fun or not, he better come back without another bullet wound, or else.

Just as she closed the door behind her, she heard many footsteps approaching, shaking the earth like an earthquake.

"There!" a voice she didn't recognise shouted.

"Get him!"

Sounds of struggle were heard. "Altogether, you fuckers!"

But three of the four people must have fallen down because now only one assailant's footsteps could be heard and he was running with all his might towards Saito. Silent fighting ensued and…she couldn't just stay in there! But she had to, she knew that; if she went out there right now she would only leave him open to attacks. She had no idea those men's equipment, too. They might not have guns – or else they'd have used them by now – but they could have other ways to hurt her from a distance.

She heard the men shout profanities and rush towards Saito no doubt! She listened intently for the slightest of sound that would indicate their progress—and how safe Saito was or wasn't. But as long as the fighting lasted, Saito was alive and kicking—it was a good thing. She heard a couple of men shout out in pain and she was sinisterly happy; served those assholes right.

She couldn't help herself; bat in hand, she peeked outside.

Saito was up against _five_ , not four people originally; she could see three people on the floor and three still fighting. They all had knives in their hands, stabbing at him with expertise; but he seemed to be just as much an expert as them and avoided each one of their thrusts with twists of his body, ducking, deflecting with his arms. He had scratches on them, but she could see they were superficial.

The three men had him surrounded, yet, to her, an outside watcher, it looked like he was the one cornering them. After some seconds, she noticed that Saito, too had a knife but he used it only for defence. In fact, he hadn't attacked at all, just dodged. But he had the upper hand, that's what she felt.

But then, a sneak attack got him close to the ribs! She leaned back, hiding behind the door involuntarily…but the moment she heard the man who acted like the boss give another order she couldn't help but look back out. "Will one of you go find the girl right now!? He's only one man!"

That was when two things happened for the first time: Saito switched to offence; and Saito's face went from neutral, maybe mildly amused, to absolutely furious! He lunged forward and tackled the man who had turned to leave, to the ground!

The boss took the opportunity to attack him, but he Saito it coming; using his leg to trip him while at the same time tossed his knife to the third intruder who was left standing, lodging it in his thigh.

"AH!"

Effectively slowed, Saito turned to the man struggling underneath him, who managed to give him a good hit under the chin! She flinched. Then, the one tripped grabbed him from behind, hands circling under his armpits like vines. He was rendered immobile! Her gut clutched and she had to convince herself not to go out there swinging!

The third one pulled the knife out of his thigh and tried to continue his course towards them. Oh he could come alright; he'd get a nice little present to the head. She stood next to the door and waited only a second before his shadow was cast. She wasted no time; bat to the head and man to the ground in the blink of an eye!

"What was that?"

She put her hand over her mouth, and shouted "There was a woman;" she started moving things around then, pretending she was looking for something "took care of her. Searching for the kid."

" _YES_! Goo-oof!"

Saito finally had enough! Fury and worry overtook him in seconds and with impressive strength, he knocked the man who tried to stab him, as the other kept him down, into the table across the room! Using the force this created, he put his feet firmly on his floor, bent his knees and flipped him over and onto the ground!

"Tooru!"

That's when Tokio decided they finally outnumbered them; after peeking out the door to see their positions, she decided it was safe to intervene and literally came out swinging! She wacked the asshole who struggled to get back on his feet to help his boss – or Tooru, as he had called him – and watched as an impressed Saito punched the man he was fighting at the temple, knocking him out, without really looking at him.

Because he was looking at her. "You were the one who spoke just now, not the other guy."

She flashed him a proud smile. "Yes; I took care of him."

But he didn't mirror her joy; in fact, he stood up abruptly, face turned expressionless as he snatched the bat out of Tokio's hands. He seemed to have an internal debate with himself on what his next step should be, but he never stopped staring her down, stern and absolute. She kept looking back, searching to find the reason for his sudden change.

And then he said "idiot!" in a snippy tone as he threw the bat away with a similar movement of his hand, making sure it landed in the general direction of his attackers "don't ever scare me like that again."

If she blinked, she'd have missed it; that's how fast he wrapped his hands around her shorter, much more fragile frame. She felt squished against his chest and oh boy how much force did he put into this? She could barely breathe…but it was nice. She found he was warm, despite the blood loss and even if she was too close, she still felt comfortable. She felt…safe. She reached out, hesitant at first, but firmly once she gathered her courage; one of her hands started rubbing his back while the other tried to wrap itself around him.

But it was short-lived; he came to his senses fast and let her go in one fluid movement as he turned around to go find Misao. When he entered the bedroom, Misao was lying on the bed. He looked at her quizzically. "I got down on my own." She explained at Tokio's stern look; despite her look though, Tokio still rushed to give her an enveloping hug.

"Where were you?"

"Up there," she showed him her hiding place through the woman's hair. "Tokio-nee-san thought of it."

"Huh." That was quite clever; he gave Tokio a look. Maybe he shouldn't underestimate her again. But if he was being honest with himself, it was pure unadulterated fear and concern that drove him to a breaking point when he heard that man say he took care of her.

She finally let go of the girl. "I know this is hard for you Misao-chan, but would you like to come with us in the next room and see if you recognise any of the men?"

"Are they bound?"

"They are about to be; and the police will be over here in minutes," Saito stated. At Misao's panic and obvious disapproval he got the police involved, he looked at her. "I too am a police officer." Her chin dropped. "And though I have kept quiet about your condition, now that all this has happened, it's safe for you to return to your family."

"But gramps said-!"

"Not everything our family says is right Misao-chan," Tokio spoke her words of wisdom "or else we'd never have progress."

She seemed to be willing to accept those words. "But…how can you be a police officer? You aren't like the ones gramps talks about."

"The ones your grandfather mentions I'm certain hardly deserve to be police officers. Alas, corruption runs rampant everywhere. Whatever the case though, the point is we must get you out there. Are you feeling up for the task?"

"Yes," she said with such determination both adults smiled. The way her character was, one easily forgot she had been a victim only too recently and she had lost both of her parents. What an amazing girl.

Misao then moved to do something, but hesitated; then again; the third time though, she finally decided to go through with it and wrapped her little hands around as much of Tokio as she could; then she tried to do the same with Saito, but she stopped. "AH! You're bleeding!"

"It's noth-"

"Oh right! I'll go tie up those people in there and then we're dealing with you, mister." Tokio snapped him.

"You will most certainly **not** be the one to tie them up. I will do that."

She snorted and was already grabbing the one she knocked out from behind and under the armpits. "Yes of course; physical exercise _never_ made a bullet wound worse, ever."

He slapped her hands away. "If even one of them wakes up while we're doing that, I'm the one most capable of neutralising them again."

She did the same as him and for good measure flicked him where the raw skin was exposed; he flinched. "Ah yes, but you see, I'm not bleeding."

That settled everything in her mind and started dragging the unconscious man. "You know," Saito said after a moment's thought "it's better we bring the rest here than the other way around, so-"

The intercom rang; they looked at each other with the same worry and suspicion and then motioned to Misao to stay there with the bat, who'd been simply watching them till that moment. Saito was the first one to move, Tokio following after him.

"Yes?" whatever the person on the other side answered, it caused Saito to raise his eyebrows, stand even straighter and become suddenly colder. "I see; come upstairs."

"Who is it?"

"Shinomori Aoshi." Tokio stared at him hard. "No, you heard well." She shook her head.

Then, there was knocking on the door; Saito motioned for her to stand behind him and only after she did, sighing and rolling her eyes, did he open the door.

A young man, barely an adult, with an extremely serious face stood behind the door. He must have been just as tall as Saito, maybe a couple of centimetres shorter; his hair were short but bangs fell in front of his face; he was wearing a suit, too, making him look older than he was. Tokio could understand why Misao was so surprised to see Hijikata. This guy did look like a younger version of the man she saw not three days ago.

"Hello," he said and bowed; his voice was deeper than she expected "I am Shinomori Aoshi. I am Makimachi Misao's legal guardian."

His eyes were scanning each and every little detail: the chaos behind them, the men on the floor, the blood spattered, smeared on simply imprinted on some of the walls; Saito's still bleeding wounds as well as his nonchalance about them, as if they were simple scratches. And how the woman next to him was all but intact. "I would like to see her please."

"I'm Ta-!"

Saito cut her off by simply extending his hand. "Identification please."

"…" he looked like he wanted to say something, but refrained. It looked like he took a little breath before speaking again. "I'm her legal gua-"

"Shinomori Aoshi, 18 years of age, orphaned since the age of ten; the Makimachi family took you in, practically gave you a new home after Kashiwazaki Nenji, commonly known or referred to as Okina, found you. At twelve, you had to witness their death; at twelve, you took care of their daughter, Misao. I know who you are; I just never knew what you looked like. But if you want me to allow you to take her away, I need to see some identification. She'd just been kidnapped after all; what kind of a police officer would I be if I just gave her back to her captor?"

Aoshi went through a lot of emotions during that short speech Saito gave: suspicion, surprise, worry, annoyance, anger, hate at the painful memories…and then realisation. Not only was this man a police officer, he wasn't one with the crowd that took his charge. He was unaffiliated and probably an up-and-coming kind of person. No wonder when he didn't find all that much info on him in the brief search he conducted this morning.

So, casually, he reached into his coat's pocket, the one hanging from his hand, and produced his wallet; he opened it and showed his ID. Saito's challenging look mellowed out; he turned to Tokio and nodded. "I'm Takagi Tokio, hello; I've been taking care of Misao-chan since we found her."

"Thank you for your efforts."

But Saito turned to look at her in a what-the-hell kind of way; she shrugged.

"I didn't mean introduce yourself; I meant bring the girl."

" _You_ bring the girl;" she gave a short smile to the new arrival "I'll have a little conversation with Aoshi-san in the meantime." But Saito didn't move; when she looked back at him, he was staring flabbergasted. "What?" He gestured towards the bedroom. "I'm not your subor-…" She took a deep breath. "You're not at work right now, Hajime; don't boss me around. You bring Misao-chan and I'll talk to this young man."

"Fine!"

He gave up, throwing his hands in the air. "Now," she turned with a satisfied grin to Aoshi "care to tell me how in earth could you _lose_ a little girl!? How in earth was she just abducted like that? Aren't you supposed to be a mo-…an influential family? Keep a better eye on your young ones!"

"…you are quite right; I am deeply sorry this happened myself."

"Don't just say you're sorry! Make sure this never happens again!"

His expression never really changed, but Tokio could see his eyes; his eyes were so expressive, just like Saito's, where she learnt the trick from. And when he heard the last of what she had to say, they took an otherworldly hue of black that impressed as much as put her on alert.

"It won't."

"Good; it better not h-!"

But Tokio was interrupted by a screech that highly resembled an "Aoshi-sama!" from the young girl's voice; a streak of blue passed right before her eyes and rammed into the young man's chest! "Aoshi-sama, you found me!" Her legs and hands wrapped around him at the best of her ability. He patted her head.

He put her down after a beat. "I did; are you healthy?"

She proudly presented her still healing wrist and pointed at her ankle with the other hand. "I wasn't in the best condition but thanks to Tokio-see-san I'm all better now!" He looked at the woman in question with the edge of his eye. "See? She bandaged my wrist and took care of me when I needed it! She is a doctor."

"Thank you, Takagi Tokio-san."

"No need; I'd do it anyway."

"And thank you, Saito-san, for letting her stay in your house. I am indebted to you."

"…I'll need her testimony—her appearance in court only if there is a trial; I'd like a calling card. And no moving her out of the district you already live in."

There was a twitch at his mouth and Tokio could swear he resisted the urge to crack a smile. "Of course." He produced a card and then took out a pen. "The number on this is only for professional matters so I never answer a number I don't know; call me here though, and I will."

Saito pocketed it in a split second. "Will do. Bye now. Oh and…same goes for you." Aoshi gave him a puzzled look. "Don't leave town."

This once the urge was too strong to resist; his mouth tugged a tiny little bit upwards, turning into a barely perceptible grin. "Now, when it's just getting interesting?" Now Misao didn't seem to understand her guardian and looked up at him. "Thank you again, for all you've done for her. Let's go Misao-chan."

"Ah, we're leaving?" he nodded. "Okay, let me get my stuff!"

She skipped to the bedroom, leaving behind her a confused Aoshi. "What stuff?"

"I bought her clothes and shoes," Tokio explained quickly "didn't want her walking around in the clothes she was taken. That would be bad for her mental health."

"Thank you," he said yet another time, but Tokio had the inkling this was the first time he was so sincere in his gratitude.

"Don't mention it."

Misao came bounding out, bags in hands. "Tokio-nee-san, thank you for everything!" She hugged her, even with the bags; the woman smiled and returned it. "I'd love to see you again if Aoshi-sama doesn't have a problem with it."

"Well, you know where I live," the two of them laughed at the inside joke "so feel free to drop by."

"Aha, I will! And…thank you, too, Saito-san." This was said with less enthusiasm and more redness. "You really did keep us safe."

He smirked, shrugging. "That's what I know how to do best, kid."

She seemed to take heart to that and smiled. "You are police after all." She giggled. "But good police."

"Right."

They all bowed for a final time. "We'll be going now; goodbye Takagi-san, Saito-san."

"Yeah, bye! If you get married, invite me to the wedding, okay?"

Misao's parting words left all adults looking all kinds of stunned and mortified. Tokio had turned ten shades darker while Saito went to the opposite spectrum and lost even more colour. Aoshi on the other hand found it extremely rude for her to be commenting on such things, being under the impression they were a couple and simply lived together.

They heard him scold her as they descended the stairs. "Misao, we don't say things like that. You can't know…"

Saito closed the door even before Aoshi's voice was completely carried away, finally turning to the thugs on the floor. Only to open it again as a knock was heard moments later. It was the police.

Finally.

While they came and took away the assailants, they started chatting with Saito for further details; but Tokio saw they were taking too long, so, without a shred of remorse or embarrassment, she walked right between them, forced him to sit down by jabbing at his wounds and started treating him. Neither man said anything, even if the other police officer had given her the most amazed and scandalised look he could muster.

Once everyone was taken, Saito stood – Tokio stood with him –, saluted – Tokio evaded his sudden movement without even looking, eyes trained on the task at hand – and sat back down. She mirrored him.

"Hmm, this brings back memories," she started yet sounded the furthest thing but nostalgic "you sitting here casually, bleeding; me patching you up, irritated at how can one person be so stubborn."

He agreed with a hum. "You were just as nice then, too."

"Oh bite me; you wanted to carry four people with these wounds; you wanted to carry a person, then too; what was I, am I, supposed to say?"

He pretended to be ignorant; she exhaled. "You are so reckless; shot twice and not even acknowledging it. Granted, they aren't that terrible, now that I look at them, but they're not simple grazes. And yet, you treat my concern as trivial and think my advice unneeded…mine, that need I remind you, I'm a doctor."

She scoffed. "Really Hajime…"

They remained silent for quite a while, sounds of every day city life filling the void. She kept working on him, he just stared at her hands moving.

"I don't treat your concern as trivial."

It was said completely out of nowhere, so Tokio barely registered it was what she'd accused him for all those minutes ago. She gave him a look. Did he really intend to continue this conversation? This wasn't in his best interest.

"Don't give me that look." She did it anyway. "If anything, I am glad you care enough to worry; I just don't want you to worry."

Well look at that! This was turning out to be more heartfelt and less confrontational by the second; Tokio looked up at him immediately, interest to see where this was going evident.

"This is what I do for a living, you know."

She scoffed again, turning back to her medicinal supplies. "Don't I know? And you wanna join the counter-terrorism unit, too, how fun."

He nodded. "Been my goal since I entered CIS." She huffed. "Don't scowl like that, I really want to."

"I know, I know; and…it suits you, damn it. But it's just so out there, so dangerous. I don't like it."

Like a child, pouting…she was so cute. He tried not to smirk and ruin the civil tone. "That brings me to the second part; I don't want you to like it, but I would want you to at least tolerate it."

She looked back up then, careful not to look too excited this time. "Why…?"

"Well, I don't know about any weddings but…a date would be nice." She kept staring, expression never changing…only the colour. A big burst of red exploded on her cheeks and nose and forehead; he hid his smirk again. "You know, dinner; maybe a movie…normal, boring things. I think we can do with a little bit of boring right now."

She chuckled. "We can." Her mirth was cut off abruptly though as she took a deep breath. She looked away, suddenly shy. She stopped her hands, dusted them off and put them folded on her knees with grace. "Dinner sounds nice."

"Good; when are you free?"

She smiled. "…all the time, for two more days; even now. But now, we don't have time for that. We have to clean up this mess first."

Now he did smirk. "We?" He stood up.

She followed his example. "What, suddenly you don't want my help?"

"I didn't say that." he took a step closer.

"Then you do want my help."

He took another step and now there was no more room for another; he was so close, he could see her breath came out faster by the effect it had on the collar of his shirt. "But I never explicitly asked for it."

She could feel her heartbeat quicken and a pleasant tingling spread throughout her body. "You didn't have to."

"Really; why?"

"Because…you just don't; never did; never had to."

He took a tuff of her hair and put it behind her ear; but his fingertips lingered on her cheek. She was too soft for his rough hands, both knew that. But she didn't mind; and that could blow his mind. He felt his own heart for maybe the first time after two very long years; it skipped a beat every now and then. But other than that, he was surprisingly calm. He wanted this. He wanted this for who knew how long? He had nothing to be worried about.

He leaned in and—

"I'M HERE TO HELP! TOKIO-CHAN, A-OW!"

Tokio broke out in laughter as Okita had to dodge an ashtray flying in his general direction.

* * *

 **A/N** : I know I'm horrible. I'll make it up to you. Much love from this stupid author who will soon enough write the end of this story.


	7. Chapter 7, Final chapter

**A/N** : Last chapteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer~! Enjoy wonderful people. Special thanks to Dragonbinder and Always Ruroken for their unending support. Anon, and the rest who reviewed, I love you all.

* * *

"Hello Saito-san!"

The young voice of his visitor immediately alerted him to their identity: Misao had just entered his office at work, waving vividly. Aoshi was following after her and Saito could see all of his colleagues giving him the weirdest looks – or most suspicious or most impressed he kept such company or that he had such connections – as if it was his fault. He shook his head.

"Hey; how is your health?" Both motioned so-so. "Sit down." He did his best not to sound too bossy with the girl who did as he asked, but Aoshi remained standing. "Now, I'll need your statement for some of the things that happened as well as a man you mentioned. Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

It was obvious that in the three days that intermediated, the girl was more than well-taken care of; she had found her family again, thus her spirits were higher than ever. That was good. "Before I ask you to say anything, I would like you to know that more than one man have been apprehended in the case of your kidnapping and you have nothing to worry about. Those who hurt you are arrested. But, there are some loose ends I'd like see tied with your help. So let's start."

He briefly looked at Aoshi whom he didn't bother shooing out; Misao was underage to begin with. He started looking through some binders when he asked the girl "do you remember the man you described to Tokio when you said you had a nightmare?"

"Of course I do."

He found what he was looking for finally, and produced it. "Did he look like this m-?"

Her scream and involuntary motion of trying to hide behind her guardian assured it that was the case. "Yes, it was that horrible man! You mean to tell me I didn't make him up?"

"The human mind can do a lot of things but create a face isn't one of them; all faces we see in our sleep are of people we have seen before." Aoshi explained calmly to the girl…but Saito could see he was boiling inside.

Oh yes; Saito had no doubt Aoshi recognised this person. Saito had, too just by his description—he was the reason he solved this case. Because this man, named Hayato Bane, a half-Japanese half-Irish man, was one of the main players involved in Misao's parents' death. He was never charged for them, and was neither of the two men Saito and the lead investigator had thought was the culprit at the time. He just existed on the fringe of the investigation.

But after the revelation he was involved with the girl's kidnapping, he was certain: Hayato had committed the murders…or at least was abettor of the crime thus the one who deserved the bigger punishment. And now, since the girl remembered his face, he could prosecute him. Finally. Of course, it would take some effort to charge him with the killings, too. But Saito had patience…and all the time in the world.

"This man is responsible for your abduction," the detective explained to the young child "and with the assurance you just gave me, I can finally catch him." His eyes travelled to her guardian, meaningfully staring. "He may be charged with more crimes so I do hope he remains in good enough health to be put behind bars for life. Otherwise, his death will also need to be solved and as you can see, I always get my man."

Both men looked at each other, sizing the other up for what felt like an hour but was barely a second; yet, with that warning, both relaxed.

"And now you can go; Tokio asked me to tell you to drop by the hospital for a check-up so you can go there."

"Ah, Tokio-nee-san wants to see me! Can we please go, Aoshi-sama? Please please…!"

"…I see no reason not to; she is a doctor after all." Aoshi gestured to Misao to exit the detective's office by holding the door open for her. Once she passed through, Aoshi turned to the older man with a dangerous gleam in his eye. "He'll be healthy enough to prosecute, I assure you…"

That was all that he could ask for.

.

Saito was coming up the stairs to his apartment when he saw a very familiar outline fiddling with keys. "Hey."

Tokio looked at her left. "Oh, hi!" She smiled very wide and after she unlocked her door she offered her cheek for a kiss. "Misao-chan did come by the hospital."

He planted a quick peck on her cheek and bent low, as there were grocery bags all around her feet; she held the door open as he took the groceries inside. "I know, I told you; I think Aoshi wanted to check up on you."

"What for?"

"Maybe to see how good of a doctor you are; I hope he doesn't make a habit out of coming to you though. He's yakuza after all and if anyone gets wind of it, I don't know how good that'll be for your career."

"Nah, I don't care; those assholes could do with some intimidation. They've been extra nice to me since you talked to them at the symposium."

He smirked. "It was a fun evening in the end."

"Yeah…"

She started putting things away and he paid special attention to where went what; they might have spent all that time at his apartment thus maybe find it more comfortable there but should they ever come here, he wanted to know the layout. "So what happened with her case?"

"I found Hayato; I arrested him. "

Her head whipped at him, looking angry. "Did you get hurt again?"

He chuckled. "I've arrested dozens of people so far, Tokyo, hardly any of them attack me…" But then he reconsidered. "Actually plenty attack me, but hardly any manage to hurt me."

"Hajime!"

He shrugged. "I'm being honest. Would you rather I lied? Besides, the point is the same."

She pursed her lips. "But did you get hurt now?"

"Nah." He put his hands on her waist and brought her closer. "I'm fine." He kissed the top of her head. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

She sighed. "Thankfully." Shaking her head, she turned to the clock, but never left his arms. "Hijikata-san and Okita will be coming over around 8; I'll start cooking around 6, so…I'll take a nap for an hour; wake me up then, okay?"

"We'll have the dinner here?"

She hummed. "I thought it'd be better; we spent far too much time in your apartment lately." They both chuckled. "Just wake me up around 6 and **don't** forget this once. Or we won't have anything to serve."

"We can always order s-"

"I promised Hijikata-san he'd eat something from me! And if just tell them I overslept I'd never hear the end of it, you know how Okita is. Oh, did he say he'd bring a date? He was mumbling when he mentioned something about it so I didn't hear well…"

"I think he did, yes."

"So, five; unless Hijikata-san brings a date, too."

Saito snorted. "That'd be the day."

And it just so happened, it was.

.

"Are you kidding!? That's in Hokkaido!"

Silence fell at the table; Saito looked at Tokio with a defeated air, knowing this would happen. "It'll only be for two months."

"That's why you took me out to a fancy restaurant, I don't believe it; so I wouldn't make a scene!"

"No, I did it because I got a promotion."

Her indignation came to a screeching halt. "Sorry?"

"I got in; I got into the Bureau. That's what the training is for."

She gawked for just a second and then actual giddiness appeared on her face. "I'm so happy for you!" she took his hand and squeezed it; he squeezed it back. "Oh, this is amazing news! And how appropriate; it's been barely a year and three months since you told me you wanted to join. Your prediction was very accurate! Well done honey!"

She leaned forward and struggled to reach his side; he smiled and leaned forward, too, to let her kiss him. She didn't care people were watching and how it could be inappropriate, this was god news! Well, almost. "I still don't like it."

"I know, don't worry…"

"But I'm happy for you."

"Thank you."

"But I also can't move with you; they will never, ever allow me to relocate, especially so suddenly."

He cocked his head to the right. "I don't mind; like I said, it'll only be a couple of months. You can handle it."

Good mood returned in their evening; there was a tease in her stance now but a wilful attitude. "Can you?"

He clicked his tongue. "I resent that."

"Uh huh; well, I resent your new post. So don't expect me to make your life any easier these two months."

"Now you're just being unnecessarily mean."

"Oh I don't know; I haven't seen my friends for a long time. I might as well organise a few girl-nights now that you won't be home. Or maybe at a bar…"

"Oh come on."

She smiled coyly; he was really annoyed though. "I'm messing with you." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek this once. "Or am I?"

"Tokio-!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I won't go out on my own too much…so how often can you have a day off or something? The trip won't be too much—and I always wanted to visit Hokkaido."

That was it; in that particular moment in time he realised he had all he ever wanted: the job of his dreams, a place to call home and a good woman to help and support him. She cared for him and was happy for something she didn't even like and he knew she didn't like it. Still she smiled and kissed him and wished him all the best.

"I love you." He said it for all the times he came home late and missed a nice dinner; for all those times he'd come back too late or too early, he'd go to her apartment and climb in bed next to her without her complaining he woke her up, even if he never managed not to; for all the times she had to wake up earlier than she had to cook him something; for all those times they'd fight but she'd still hug him when he slept next to her.

Not being what she expected to hear, it took her by surprise. "I love you, too." she said anyway and smiled confused.

"You know Tokio, there would be a way to move with me if you really wanted;"

It was clear he hadn't finished, but she didn't wait for him to, because she absolutely stated "I am not going to quit my job at-"

But he kept talking like she never interrupted him "officers' wives have special privileges." She stopped mid-sentence and stared. Was he…? "So it isn't completely unattainable."

She kept staring. "Are you proposing to me?"

"No, but it is an option; for the future. Obviously we can't get married now when I'm leaving in a week but from my knowledge, even if I am stationed in Tokyo, there's always the possibility of some case too far away for too long or even exchange in personnel between offices; so, if, in the future that happens, if we're married, you could follow me."

"Oh. I see." She bit her lip, indicating she was thinking about it. "I'll…answer you once you come back from your training."

"Sounds fair." He looked at his watch. "What's the date now, March fifth? May the 20th I'm waiting for an answer."

"Ooooh, you're giving me a deadline, I like it; you're so laidback about things usually, it's nice to see you so decided."

"Uh huh; two months and fifteen days. I'll be waiting."

.

.

"Aoshi-sama, gramps Okina! Someone sent me a letter in the mail! Not an email, too, an actual letter!"

Ten year old Misao came bounding in Aoshi's study! Ever since she'd been kidnapped two years ago, the young man decided to keep her at the mansion; staying in the second house did nothing for her safety anyway and Okina, one of the best men in the organisation, were removed from his immediate side. Besides, Misao she liked it better here, too.

The two mentioned men, who of course knew about the letter, were finishing up a conversation when the young girl burst through the door with said letter in hand. "Ooooh, there's something like a box in here; I wonder what it is!"

The two men exchanged glances, mirth evident while she literally tore apart the envelope without even reading the sender. They of course had and knew exactly what this was about. So when she produced an oblong, ten by three, white little box she instantly became excited. "Could this be a gift from someone?"

With more excitement than two seconds ago, she untied the little white ribbon that kept the box closed; it revealed a really small scroll, with black wood protruding from the sides. Filled with anticipation, she unrolled it and read out loud:

"Saito Hajime and Takagi Tokio, together with their family and friends, invite you to witness their union of marriage. On the 11th of December, six o'clock in the afternoon, at the Izumo-Taisha Grand Shrine, at Izumo, Shimane; your presence is much appreciated."

She kept reading faster and faster, eyes widening and smile incredulous yet growing by the second. "Oh my god, they're getting married! Oh, it has a thing attached." She saw the post it note stuck at the end of the otherwise vintage-looking scroll. She read it out loud again. "We'd love to have you Misao-chan! First seats for you and your date guaranteed, both at the wedding and the after party. Love, Tokio-nee-san."

She was ecstatic now, looking between the paper and the two men who were now both smiling – well, barely grinning in Aoshi's case – at the young girl. "Can we go? Please, please, can we go? I wanna go so badly, please let us go, please!"

They looked at one another for only a second. "I don't see why not."

"YES!" She rushed to hug both men, even if it was Aoshi who spoke. "Thank you so much! I'm going to call them right now and tell them we're going, yay!"

The invitation fell onto the office; Aoshi took it in his hand and read it. "Well, they kept their word," even if they never really said it out loud.

"It's not a bad idea to have a friendly face in the police force; even if he'd never help in the way we would want, some information is better than no information."

Aoshi nodded and then looked at his watch; it was 27th of November. "We better take a couple of days off for the wedding and make arrangements from now."

"Ah, yes; it would be a shame not to show Misao-chan around for a day or two." They both nodded. "Well, we better get used to her being like this. I bet when she'll come back in she'll ask us to take her to their apartment for a tea or something. Or she'll go on her own again." He considered. "Or maybe I can escort her; I'm dying to meet this policeman face to face."

"You'll like him."

Misao came running back in then, a flushed face evident. "Aoshi-sama, Aoshi-sama! Tokio invited me with her to the hot-springs! Said it's a two-day treatment before the wedding; can I go?"

"…of course."

There goes their plan to go with her for sightseeing. But no worries; the groom's bride would take care of her in their stead. She was good at it, anyway.

* * *

 **A/N** : Aaaaah, finished. Completed. What a thrill. Thank you all who reviewed and favoured and watched, I love you so much. Please leave a review now, too to tell me your final thoughts.

Stay tuned for one of the most ridiculous AUs I'm already thinking of. (blame nevvy for it, too because she challenged me and I ever back down from a challenge) Kisses sweethearts~~~


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